


Our Threadbare Lies

by ramonaspeaks



Series: Our Threadbare Lies [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Chaptered, Coming Out, Drunkenness, Existential Crisis, Explicit Sexual Content, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Pining, Sexual Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-03-12 06:09:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 58,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3346409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramonaspeaks/pseuds/ramonaspeaks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan is eighteen years old and newly single. He's ready to come out to his family but he thinks it would be a hell of a lot easier if he had a boyfriend to help him through it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Eternal gratitude to my beta Evie!
> 
> Russian translation: [Наша изношенная ложь](https://ficbook.net/readfic/3482494) by Donchushka

Dan had sworn to himself that he wouldn't call Phil that evening, but that was _five_ hours ago. A different person made that decision. A foolish, younger version of himself who hadn't known that he'd be spending the night on patio furniture with wicker legs that creaked each time he moved.  
  
And there were few things worse than trying to sleep when you weren't tired. It was a personal victory that he'd lasted ten minutes before pulling his phone out. Fortunately, Phil didn’t seem bothered and answered the call with his typical enthusiasm.  
  
Dan turned his head to work the stiffness out of his neck and stared up at where the moon was hiding behind clouds. It was warm for September but the night air still had a bit of a chill to it.  
  
"Where are you?" Phil asked during the lull in conversation.  
  
"I'm at Chloe's place." Dan glanced at the time on his phone. It was past two in the morning. Somehow they'd been talking for over an hour already. "Didn't I tell you that?"  
  
"Yeah, but _where_ are you right now? I keep hearing weird noises on your end."  
  
"Be quiet a second." Dan stopped to listen to the eerie call that sounded like it came from a cluster of nearby trees. "I think it's a barn owl."  
  
"There are exotic pets at this party? Now I'm jealous."  
  
Dan laughed. "I'm outside. Attempting to sleep on a lounge chair."  
  
"Like the ones you see at the beach?"  
  
"Right. Only a bit fancier. Imagine something you'd see at a garden party with old ladies drinking tea. The best Ikea has to offer." Dan rolled onto his side and switched the phone to his other ear. The cushion was thin enough that he could feel the plastic underneath digging into his hip. "Every other available surface was already taken. Anyway this balcony is off the kitchen and it was the only place I could talk to you without people overhearing. "  
  
"That's terrible." Phil laughed. "Why didn't you just go home?"  
  
The barn owl screeched out its raspy cry again. Dan shivered and looked down at the garden. There was a stone pathway that led to a large wooden gazebo. He could see the filmy canopy blowing in the breeze. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves. It wasn’t like he was surrounded by wilderness.  
  
"I was supposed to go back with Erica," he answered. "She left without me. We broke up earlier."  
  
There was a long moment of silence. Dan waited to see if Phil would ask why he hadn't brought this up earlier in the conversation. Maybe he'd think that was weird. Maybe he'd want to know who initiated it. Or maybe he'd just ask if that meant Dan was single now.  
  
Dan blinked up at the sky. Probably not that last one.  
  
"Are you okay?" Phil finally asked.  
  
"Yeah. It was a bit _public_ but otherwise it's sort of a relief." Dan paused. "I'm only telling you that because I'm having an emotional crisis about authenticity tonight. I know it makes me sound like a dick."  
  
"No, you don't sound– wait, what do you mean by that?"  
  
"The danger of lying to people when you're at a particularly stupid age," Dan began as he hoisted himself up and walked over to the railing, "is that sometimes those people become your fucking girlfriend and your whole relationship is founded on bullshit."  
  
Dan stood in the corner of the balcony with his back to the door. His friends were all enjoying their blissful lack of insomnia and they couldn't hear him even if they did wake up, but he still felt compelled to put more space between himself and all other living humans. This amount of honesty was beyond his comfort zone.  
  
"You lied to Erica when you first met?" Phil asked. "Did she find something out?"  
  
Dan shook his head pointlessly. "Not really."  
  
"What happened then?"  
  
"I don't know how to explain it," he admitted.  
  
Dan sampled personalities like they were hors d'oeuvres when he was younger. It was a novelty at sixteen, a source of entertainment that always impressed his friends. He'd invent stories to pass the time while waiting in line at the cinema. Sometimes he'd fake an accent while placing an order for takeaway just to see if he could pull it off. It was like an improv game where everyone fell into his background story.  
  
It had become less fun over the years.  
  
"You wouldn't have brought it up if you didn't want to–" Phil began.  
  
"Did I tell you about how Erica caught me watching gay porn?" Dan cut him off with a quiet huff of laughter. "My parents weren't home and she walked into my room without knocking."  
  
"You, uh, no. You didn't." Phil sounded like he was trying not to laugh. "Was she upset?"  
  
"No," Dan said. "I told her that I was curious and she didn't bring it up again."  
  
Dan could still picture the shocked amusement on her face and the way her hand automatically flew to cover her giant brown eyes. In his panic to close out of the window, he'd wrenched his headphones free of the laptop and the room had filled with a cacophony of masculine moaning. Erica burst out laughing and then said she was sorry just as Dan tried to do the same. They'd shouted apologies and explanations at each other until they were doubled over in a fit of hysteria.  
  
"The whole thing was pretty funny," Dan said.  
  
"It's not why you broke up then?"  
  
"No, this was about two years ago."  
  
"Wait, two _years_?" Phil asked. "You told me you only realized you were bi three months ago."  
  
"Yeah, that's true," Dan said. "I really thought that I was curious."  
  
" _Right_. So was your dick curious too?"  
  
Dan grinned and lifted his face to the sky. "It was definitely showing interest."  
  
"And were your–"  
  
"Shut up, okay?" Dan gave a weak laugh and covered his eyes with his free hand. He'd never been so glad they weren't on Skype where Phil could see him. "Whatever you're going to ask, you know the answer already."  
  
"The perils of adolescent self-discovery."  
  
"You're distracting me from my point." Dan exhaled. He turned around and collapsed back onto the creaky chair. "Sometimes I don't realize when I'm lying to people. It's sort of like I'm not a real person. I might as well be made from fucking paper."  
  
"You seem real to me," Phil said in a soft voice. All traces of humor vanished. "Have you lied to me a lot?"  
  
It felt like Dan's ribcage was being squeezed. He drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped one arm around them while clutching the phone like a lifeline. Maybe he'd never intentionally lied to Phil, but that was only because over the years he'd advanced to the more subtle art of carving away details until he was left with more palatable versions of the truth.  
  
"I can't think of any _lies_ ," Dan answered. "But, like, I still don't tell you everything. And what if there's no authentic self underneath the carefully constructed image?"  
  
Dan cringed even as he spoke the words. This is why he'd neglected to mention the break up. It was almost impressive how he could go from playful banter to unleashing his inner demons in less than a minute.  
  
"I think everyone worries about that sometimes," Phil said. "You're not like anyone I've ever– well, I was going to say _met_ but you know what I mean."  
  
Dan smiled. Less than a month until that finally happened. "Yeah."  
  
"There are lots of things that are genuine," Phil said. "You're clever. You're nice to people. You like attention and living in fantasy worlds. And you can be self-absorbed but that's mostly anxiety, not that you're some egomaniac. You tell lies without thinking twice but then torture yourself over whether it makes you a bad person when you don't feel guilty enough."  
  
"That sounds about right."  
  
"But all of those things, like, your anxiety and self-doubt and desire to live a thousand lives all at once?" Phil paused. "They're not proof that nothing you feel is real. Those are all pieces that make up who you are. They _are_ real."  
  
Dan swallowed. The iron vice wrapped around his throat began to relent. Phil's voice was soothing and his words felt like water smoothing out rough edges from the day. This wasn't the only time he'd tried to explain this particular fear to someone, but it was the first time that anyone's response managed to make him feel better.  
  
"That's not why we broke up though," Dan said after a moment. "We got into an argument and she left and then it hit me. She's leaving for university, you know? I might never see her again and I don't even _care._ "  
  
"And you freaked out?"  
  
"Not in the way where I wanted to cry or throw things at the wall."  
  
"More of an existential crisis?"  
  
"Yeah," Dan said. It made his stomach flutter that Phil remembered the term he'd used the last time he tried to explain the cyclical thoughts that kept him awake until dawn. "My friends were being so _nice_ and I started pretending that I was sad so they'd think that I was normal."  
  
Phil laughed. "But you told me the truth."  
  
"Well, yeah. I don't want to lie to you."  
  
"Good," Phil said. "Are you going to tell me why you broke up?"  
  
"We started arguing over something stupid and it all spiraled from there." Dan sighed. "I think we both knew long distance was never going to work but neither of us wanted to admit it outright."  
  
There was a drawn out pause.  
  
"That makes sense," Phil said. "So long distance is a deal breaker for you?"  
  
"Yeah, it was a mutual thing," Dan said. "Neither of us wanted to even try it."  
  
He hadn't spent much time with Erica over the past few months. When they did see each other, most of their time was spent arguing or forcing polite conversation. It wasn't an encouraging state of affairs.  
  
Dan yawned. His eyelids felt heavy. The night had gone quiet and it was lulling him to sleep.  
  
"I think the owl finally shut up," Dan said.  
  
"That's a shame. I was hoping you'd go adventuring and capture it."  
  
Dan snorted. "Not likely. Do you know what my biggest fear is?"  
  
"I don't think we've covered that yet," Phil said. "What is it?"  
  
"You're going to love this. Trees." Dan gave a small laugh as he stared up at the overcast night sky. "I hate even looking at them. Especially when it's dark."  
  
"Is that why you called me?" Phil laughed.  
  
"I don't know." Dan stretched his legs out and tried to find a more comfortable position. "I probably would have anyway."  


* * *

  
Dan woke up with one leg dangling off the side of the chair and an arm twisted underneath his body. He must have tried to roll over at some point during the night.  
  
"Fuck," he muttered as he pushed himself back into a sitting position. "Stupid fucking wicker death trap."  
  
"Good morning to you too." There was a soft laugh beside him. "I brought coffee."  
  
Dan turned his head and squinted at Chloe. She'd taken up residence in the chair beside his own and held two mugs in her hand. Her short hair was wet from the shower and curled around her ears. It was dyed bright red this week.  
  
"That will go far in convincing me to forgive you." Dan took the mug from her outstretched hand as he stood up. "Thanks."  
  
"Forgive me?" Chloe asked. "I took you in from the cold last night. I am Mother Teresa of Cal-fucking-cutta."  
  
Dan rubbed his neck and twisted at the waist to work out his muscles. There didn’t seem to be any permanent nerve damage at least.  
  
"Did Mother Teresa make her guests sleep on plastic furniture?" Dan asked.  
  
Chloe's eyes brightened. "Actually, I was watching this documentary last week about–"  
  
"No," Dan groaned. "That was not an invitation to start a discussion with me. I got about two hours of sleep last night and I still have to go to work later today."  
  
"That sucks."  
  
Chloe drained the rest of her coffee and stood up. She walked to the open door and bounced up the two steps that led back into the house. Dan heaved a weary sigh and followed her into the kitchen where she was humming and dropping slices of bread into the toaster.  
  
"Want to help me clear everyone out?" Chloe asked. "My parents get home this afternoon. I need everyone gone before I drive you home."  
  
"Yeah, sure." Dan collapsed into a chair and let his head fall onto the dining table. He felt something sticky on his forehead. Probably jam. He didn't bother moving. "As soon as I'm able to function again."  
  
Dan drifted as the sound of plates being set down and the smell of toast and butter reached his half-conscious state. There was the faint scraping of a chair and then a finger poking at his shoulder.  
  
"I dropped marmalade there," Chloe said. "Toast?"  
  
Dan lifted his head and grabbed a napkin from the center of the table to wipe across his forehead before taking a slice. He looked over her shoulder. The kitchen opened up to a lounge where two people were still asleep on the sofa. He kept his voice low.  
  
"I'm sorry about last night."  
  
Chloe looked up from her plate in surprise. "For the fight?"  
  
Dan nodded.  
  
"No, it's fine." Chloe used her fingers to comb through her damp hair. "I wanted to say more but I didn't want to insert myself, you know?"  
  
"Yeah," Dan said. "You don't have to say anything."  
  
"Not that I wasn't surprised when you first told me that you aren't going to uni but–"  
  
"It's just a gap year," Dan said. "I'm going eventually."  
  
Chloe shrugged. "I think YouTube sounds like something you could do. I'd watch your videos. You've got that natural charm."  
  
Dan looked down and began to inspect his fingernails. "Okay."  
  
He regretted bringing up YouTube last night. There were a few videos ready to upload once he worked up the nerve to show Phil. It felt natural to mention them when people started asking what he was going to do over the next year. He probably should have stuck with the work experience he'd be doing at a law office in a few months. No one mocked law offices.  
  
"You'll have fun with it," Chloe said. "We’re all going to be jealous when we’re crying over textbooks in the middle of the night."  
  
"I don’t feel sorry for you. You’ll be living in London," Dan said. "You're not allowed to be jealous of anyone."  
  
"Then you'll have to come and visit me." Chloe gave him a hopeful smile. "Right?"  
  
"I don't know." Dan gave a dramatic sigh and shook his head. "Your accommodations leave something to be desired."  
  
"I'll prepare for you like I'm expecting royalty. Promise."  
  
"So, a futon then?"  
  
"I'll even throw in a pillow." Chloe brushed crumbs into her hand and dropped them on her plate. "Look, what I wanted to say last night. There are some people who think, like, I'm only eighteen and I should fuck up while I still can. Then other people think, _shit_ , I'm an adult now and it's time to sort my life out. I don’t think either of them are _wrong_ really."  
  
"I bounce between both of those depending on my mood."  
  
"Same for me." Chloe shrugged. "But Erica doesn't. She was more of an adult when we were fourteen than I am today."  
  
"Yeah," Dan agreed. "Me too."  


* * *

  
By the time Chloe dropped him off at his house, Dan had less than an hour before his shift started. There was just enough time for a quick shower and another cup of coffee. He refused to let himself look at his bed. He'd never manage to haul himself out in time.  
  
The result was four hours staring at rows of stacked cans as if in a trance before collapsing into a heap of exhaustion the moment he returned home. He woke up at midnight feeling disoriented and groaned. His sleep schedule was hopelessly fucked. He was tempted to hurl his phone at the wall but then he noticed two missed texts from Phil.  
  
The first one was a short message asking if his day was going better than his night. The second included a black and white photo of Phil staring at the camera with wide eyes while biting his lip.  
  
 _"figured id give you a sneak peek. worth uploading?"  
  
_ Dan grinned as he typed a response.  
  
 _"definitely. why b &w tho? you have pretty eyes"  
  
_As soon as he sent the message, Dan pushed his sheets away and held his phone above his head to take a selfie. He tried a few of his standard poses before sucking two fingers into his mouth and winking at the camera.  
  
Dan stared at the photo and considered how Phil would react if he _actually_ sent it to him. His hair looked surprisingly good. It was tousled from sleep and he had one arm thrown over his head on the pillow.  
  
It was an impulsive decision. Dan tossed his phone onto his bedside table like it might burst into flames after hitting send. This was either going to get him laid or inspire Phil to look into restraining orders.  
  
"I'm fucking losing it," Dan muttered into his pillow and laughed.  
  
Not that Phil hadn't seen provocative pictures of him before, but there was a difference between posting a photo to a public website and sending one to a specific person. It had to be libido-influenced lack of judgment. Dan stared at the ceiling and swore to himself that he would never again text Phil when it had been more than a day since he'd last gotten off.  
  
Before he could follow that train of thought to its natural conclusion, he heard the sound of an incoming Skype call.  
  
"Shit."  
  
Dan pulled his hand away from where it was sliding down his stomach and sat upright. He grabbed his laptop off the floor and connected the call. Phil's face appeared on the screen and he gave a small wave.  
  
"Did you just wake up?" Phil asked.  
  
"Yeah." Dan tilted his screen back to improve the lighting. "I fell asleep after work. Everything is still confusing and awful."  
  
Phil laughed. "I got your text. Are you putting that online?"  
  
"Obviously. I need a profile picture for all the dating websites I'm joining now that I'm single."  
  
"You might attract the wrong sort."  
  
"And what sort is that?" Dan widened his eyes and twirled a bit of his hair. Fucking hell, it was time for a haircut. He could _actually_ twirl it around his finger. "Don't worry. It was for your personal collection."  
  
"Really?" Phil smiled but looked off to the side. "Put some clothes on. I can't talk to you when you're naked in bed."  
  
"Half naked," Dan corrected. "I've got pants on."  
  
Phil let out a nervous laugh.  
  
Dan frowned. There were two ways that he could interpret his discomfort. Either Phil found his body so distracting that he couldn’t form a proper sentence or he found Dan's flirtatious behavior so off-putting that he didn't want to look at him. Neither had ever been true before. They’d been dancing around the possibility of wanting more than friendship for months, but now that Dan was actually available, Phil was turning bright red and fidgeting.  
  
"Is it not a good time to talk?" Phil stared down at his hands. "I'll be around later if it's not."  
  
"Just give me a second."  
  
Dan swiveled his laptop around so that he could pull clothes on. It seemed that this _wouldn't_ be one of their carefree conversations where they traded teasing comments until the early hours of the morning. Everything about Phil suggested he'd been preparing what he wanted to say.  
  
"All right," Dan said as he climbed back onto his bed. "I’m decent.”  
  
Phil glanced back at the screen and smiled. "Are you feeling okay?"  
  
"Yeah." Dan shrugged as he adjusted his limbs until he was sitting cross-legged with his laptop balanced on his knees. "I’ve survived worse."  
  
"I wanted to ask about last night."  
  
Dan felt an unsettled flutter in his stomach. "What about it?"  
  
"Do you have an anxiety disorder?" Phil asked.  
  
"Oh." Dan's eyebrows lifted in surprise. He shook his head. "I don't think so. Sometimes I get anxiety obviously, like, there are times I can't sleep because my mind won't shut up but I don't think it's at _disorder_ level, you know what I mean?"  
  
"Okay." Phil nodded. "Yeah, I get that. Okay."  
  
"Did I worry you or something?"  
  
"No, I just wanted to mention something that might help." Phil gave him a sheepish smile. "But I didn't want to be presumptuous."  
  
"Presumptuous?" Dan ignored the flicker of hope in his chest. "What do you mean?"  
  
"I'm not going to pretend to be some anxiety guru," Phil said. "I don't want to give you advice if you don't want to hear it."  
  
"You look nervous."  
  
Phil nodded. "Don’t get mad at me? You can tell me if you don't want to talk about it."  
  
"You're starting to scare me," Dan said with a laugh. "Just fucking spit it out."  
  
"All right. It's nothing bad." Phil twisted his fingers in his lap as he spoke. "I was just wondering if you'd ever considered coming out. Like, to your family."  
  
Dan stared at him.  
  
"Not really," he said. "Why?"  
  
"Right." Phil looked visibly relieved that Dan's reaction wasn't more dramatic. "When you were talking about how you didn't feel like you were real. Well, I can't always relate to things like that but that's how I felt during the year that I wasn't out to my parents. I felt like I was being fake."  
  
"It's a little more complicated than that."  
  
"I know," Phil said. "But you're sort of hiding this huge part of yourself from everyone. Do you think it'd make you feel better if you told them?"  
  
Dan shoved his laptop to the foot of his bed and rolled onto his stomach. He crossed his ankles in the air and rested his chin on his forearms as he considered Phil's question. Even though there'd been inklings that he wasn't straight since he hit puberty and he'd become comfortable thinking of himself as bisexual over the last few months, it wasn't something he'd given much thought. He'd been dating Erica for three years. Sexuality didn't seem relevant to him.  
  
Or maybe that was just an excuse so he wouldn't have to think about it.  
  
"I don't know," Dan finally responded. "I'd like to come out, I guess."  
  
"Yeah." Phil nodded.  
  
"It'd be so weird though. I can't imagine saying the words, especially to my parents."  
  
"You came out to me."  
  
"That was different." Dan rolled his eyes. "All I had to say was 'me too' when you told me that you're bisexual."  
  
"I didn't actually use the words when I did it," Phil said. "My mum was cooking breakfast and I walked in the room and told her I was dating someone new and his name was Joshua."  
  
Dan raised an eyebrow. "How old were you?"  
  
"Um, about eighteen. Maybe nineteen?" Phil shrugged. "A few years ago."  
  
"What'd she say?" Dan asked.  
  
"She didn't even turn around." Phil's smile grew warmer. "She stood there with the spatula in her hand and kept flipping bacon while she asked me what he was like and where I'd met him."  
  
"Your mum sounds cool."  
  
"Of course." Phil spread out his arms. "Where do you think I get it?"  
  
Dan laughed and shook his head. "I seriously hope you realize how fucking lucky you are."  
  
"Would your parents, like, get upset, do you think?" Phil asked.  
  
"Probably not," Dan said. "I mean, not _upset_."  
  
Dan let his head collapse onto his arms. He hadn't even figured out how to break the news to his parents that their beloved Erica wouldn't be around anymore. This whole discussion seemed a bit premature.  
  
There was a thought creeping in the back of Dan's traitorous mind though. A wicked spark of hope kept twisting around his brain.  
  
What if Phil initiated this conversation not just in response to Dan's distressed phone call but because he wanted to broach the topic and gauge Dan's reaction. Maybe he didn't want to date someone who was still in the closet. Maybe this was _his_ way of showing interest. A more subtle approach than sending cheeky pictures and answering Skype calls without putting clothes on.  
  
"You know," Dan lifted his head, "I think you're right. It wouldn't be as difficult to come out if I was dating someone."  
  
Phil gave him a sympathetic smile.  
  
"It's sort of a catch-22 though, isn't it?" Dan pushed on before Phil could respond. "Like, of course it'd be easier if I had a boyfriend, but it's sort of hard to get one if I'm not out yet, right?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess," Phil said.  
  
"But I am out," Dan said. "To you."  
  
"Um." Phil blinked at him. "Right?"  
  
Dan could feel his heart pounding in his throat. Oh, fuck it. There was no backing down now.  
  
"What if I told them– I mean, like, if it were, um," Dan paused to take a deep breath. It shouldn't be possible to become this out of breath after so few words. "What if I were introducing _you_ as my boyfriend?"  
  
Dan felt the urge to cover his face with both hands but stared at his computer in terror instead. The silence stretched out for several seconds and there was confusion written all over Phil's face. Dan bit his lip in an effort to keep himself from breaking the tension by pretending that the question was a joke.  
  
"I don't really–" Phil stared back at him. "Are you asking if you can lie to your parents and say that I'm your boyfriend when you come out?"  
  
Dan felt his stomach drop. "Yeah. Exactly."  
  
The lie slipped out without a moment's hesitation. Phil's expression cleared and Dan gave him another small nod to confirm.  
  
Of _course_ that's what he meant.


	2. Chapter 2

The first thought that entered Dan's mind upon waking had nothing to do with his unresolved conversation with Phil from the previous night. Instead it was his standard examination of whether he'd remembered to lock his bedroom door before falling asleep.  
  
He squinted at the door handle to see if it was turned upright or not.  
  
Fucking _yes_. It was locked.  
  
His second thought was a less coherent and _much_ less dignified proclamation to religious deities as one hand cupped around the hard-on in his boxers and another fumbled underneath his bed for the emergency supply of lotion.  
  
Dan eased his boxers down and slid a cold, impatient hand over himself.  
  
“ _Shit_ ,” he muttered.  
  
The discomfort only lasted a moment before everything was slippery and warm. It was reassuring to know that the laws of his personal universe still seemed to apply even in the midst of emotional turmoil. His cock patently refused to be neglected for two days in a row.  
  
It only took a few strokes before the familiar warm sensation began to build. Dan grit his teeth and released a slow exhale as he forced his hand to stop moving. There was no fucking way he was letting himself come that soon. This needed to be savored.  
  
Dan shuffled onto his stomach. His forehead pressed against the mattress and the scent of fabric softener invaded his senses with every ragged breath. He braced himself with one forearm and managed to lift himself onto shaking knees. His cock was swollen enough that he could still feel it against his stomach. One hand slipped between his thighs.  
  
It was all he could do to hold back a moan.  
  
Dan kept his grip firm but his hand could only make it halfway up the length of his cock before sensitivity forced him back down, making his strokes short and frantic. Tension contracted his muscles into knots as he kept chasing after the sweet ache for as long as his body could endure.  
  
All he could think of was Phil. There wasn't much reason to avoid it anymore so he let his mind fill with every moment that had added to the slow-burning frustration in his gut. The sound of Phil's low, sleepy voice rumbling out like gravel as they tried to stay awake. The way his top button was always undone. The unconscious flicks of tongue over his bottom lip. The broad shoulders and curve of his neck that Dan wanted to bite and suck until purple marks blossomed across his pale skin.  
  
Dan's thighs burned with the strain of keeping him upright. He imagined Phil watching him. He wondered if he'd like seeing Dan bent over with spread legs and one visible hand tugging at the sheets.  
  
“Oh, fuck. Jesus, _fff_ –”  
  
Dan bit his lip to muffle his cries. He rolled onto his back just in time to save his sheets. The tip of his cock was flushed the color of wine and glistening. It burned white-hot pleasure on the cusp of pain every time his fingers got too close. He arched his back and shuddered as his orgasm peaked in waves and coursed through his body.  
  
Every bit of tension in his body evaporated. His chest heaved as he came down from his high and melted into the bed.  
  
That had been the _exact_ stress relief he needed. He couldn't even remember the last time circumstances had conspired so it'd been that long since he'd gotten off. Not even during last year's ill-fated family camping trip with the public showers.  
  
Dan picked up his phone to check the time. It was past noon.  
  
And there was a new voicemail waiting for him. Dan's chest felt tight as apprehension drove away the boneless contentment. None of his friends ever _called_ him.  
  
It felt lewd to listen to the message while there was still a sticky pool of come lingering on his stomach, but propriety was the least of Dan's concerns. He turned the volume down to the lowest level and pressed the phone to his ear.  
  
 _“Dan, hey, it's me.”_ Phil's recorded voice sounded tinny and a bit strained. _“You're probably sleeping. I hope you're sleeping and not avoiding me, um, not that you would do that. Sorry to call. It just felt like a phone call sort of thing? I don't know why I told you I'd need to think about, you know, what you asked. It's fine. I mean, however I can, you know... I want to help. Whatever you want to tell people, I'm in. Okay. That's all. Bye.”  
  
_ Dan listened to the message again.  
  
Phil was in. Holy shit.  
  
And maybe he wasn't in the exact same way that _Dan_ was in, but it was still a good news. A tiny little yes. The first bit of confirmation Dan had gotten that maybe this wasn't all in his head.  
  
There were just a few things that Dan needed to sort out.  
  
He stood up and wrinkled his nose. Best to start with a shower.  


* * *

  
Dan needed an outfit that would make a statement.  
  
Specifically, that statement needed to be somewhere along the lines of _“I am your tiny son adrift in this vast lonely world so please be nice to me.”_  
  
Grooming was kept to an absolute minimum. He let his hair dry naturally and didn't bother to run a comb through it. He pulled on a pair of trackies and a worn t-shirt. He folded his arms and studied the mirror before leaving his room.  
  
The bags under his eyes told a convincing story at least. It would do.  
  
“Good morning.” Dan shuffled into the kitchen. “Dad at work?”  
  
“Yes.” His mum looked up from her book with a smile and motioned to the half-finished lunch sitting in front of her. “In case you haven't noticed, it's afternoon.”  
  
Dan gave a short laugh as he walked around her and picked up a box of cereal. She was dressed in work clothes and her dark brown hair was pinned back so that it wouldn't fall in her eyes while she leaned over her massage table.  
  
“Have you got clients today?” he asked.  
  
“A bit later.” She pulled out the chair next to her own and motioned for him to sit.  
  
Dan set down his bowl and spoon beside her. He grabbed for the jug of milk and barely avoided knocking it over.  
  
“Oh, careful there.” His mum reached out a hand to keep it in place.  
  
“Sorry,” Dan muttered.  
  
Communication in Dan's household was structured so that speaking wasn't a frequent necessity. Everyone in his family got along, but they existed as independent orbiting satellites rather than a collective unit. Even his parents relied on dry erase board messages several days of the week when their work schedules diverged.  
  
Dan's mother functioned as the family sounding board. Anything of importance that he told her would eventually filter down to his father and younger brother but she kept the nonessential details to herself. It was a safe starting place.  
  
She stared at him. “Are you all right?”  
  
“Erica and I broke up,” Dan blurted out.  
  
“Oh, no. I'm sorry, darling.” She slid a torn bit of paper between the pages of her book to mark her place. “When did that happen?”  
  
“A couple nights ago.” Dan shrugged as he took a bite of cereal. “It's fine.”  
  
When Dan was upset about something, he assumed an air of indifference. The best way to appear despondent was to mute his reactions. It had taken him years to master this art of layering false emotions.  
  
“Tell me what happened,” she said.  
  
“She's moving. I'm staying here. It is what it is.”  
  
“But was it her decision or–”  
  
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Dan insisted. “I only figured I should tell you in case you wanted to, I don't know, take her parents off the Christmas card list.”  
  
His mum let out a soft sigh. “If you're sure.”  
  
“I'm sure.” Dan’s spoon clattered into his bowl as his arms dropped onto the table. “I just want to get my mind off it, you know? Almost all of my friends are still friends with her, so it's weird.”  
  
Dan's mum scooted closer to him. The space between her eyebrows creased in concern. He found it difficult to look at her eyes and shifted his gaze to where her slender fingers were drumming on the table.  
  
“There's one friend who asked me to visit,” Dan continued. “It might be fun, but I don't know.”  
  
“Was it Chloe?”  
  
“She hasn't gotten settled yet.” Dan shook his head. “But I was talking to Phil last night and he asked if I wanted to come up to see him for a few days.”  
  
“Phil?” she asked. “I'm not sure I remember him.”  
  
“Yeah, um, Phil Lester? Maybe you never met him. I know him from acting stuff,” Dan said with a small wave of his hand. “So, like, it's a different group of friends.”  
  
It wasn't _quite_ a lie. YouTube was a type of acting.  
  
“Where does he live?”  
  
“Near Manchester. I could take the train and, um, yeah.” Dan lifted a hand as if the idea of going to visit Phil was something he hadn't given much consideration. “What do you think?”  
  
“I don’t want you spending all your time hiding in your room.” His mum frowned. “Is Phil at university? Does he have roommates?”  
  
“No,” Dan said. “He lives with his parents.”  
  
They would be away on holiday at the time, but somehow that piece of information didn't come up.  


* * *

  
  
It was somewhat of a letdown that none of Dan's friends took the bait when he released his excitement through a flurry of vague tweets. His disappointment was short-lived when Phil signed onto Skype a few hours after he'd finished talking to his mother.  
  
“Okay,” Phil said. “What happened? I need the good news.”  
  
“I just had,” Dan drew in a breath, “an _extremely_ successful conversation with my mum.”  
  
Phil's eyes widened. “That was fast.”  
  
“Wait, no.” Dan laughed. “I didn't– no, it wasn't about that. But I'm coming to visit you and there wasn't even an argument.”  
  
“Holy _shit_.”  
  
There was a clatter and the image of Phil went out of focus. It looked like he’d jerked upright and knocked the laptop off his legs. Dan laughed. “Everything all right over there?”  
  
“Yeah, fine.” Phil came back into view. “Are you serious though?”  
  
“I'm buying train tickets as soon as I get paid next week.”  
  
Phil gaped at him. “It's really happening.”  
  
Dan nodded. It felt like his chest might burst.  
  
“You told me it might take a while to convince your mum.”  
  
“Well, it didn't.” Dan grinned. “She was practically the one talking me into going by the end.”  
  
“What– how'd you manage _that_?”  
  
“I told her about Erica.” Dan shrugged. “She thought it was a great idea to catch up with one of my acting friends instead of moping around my room.”  
  
“Acting friend?” Phil lifted an eyebrow.  
  
“It wasn't a lie. We're going to be filming a YouTube video when I get there, right?”  
  
“But you let her think we'd already met.”  
  
“Yeah.” Dan's smile wavered. “Is that bad?”  
  
Phil looked up at the ceiling and let out a soft laugh. “Dan.”  
  
Dan felt a twinge of anxiety. The timing of his break up couldn't have been more perfect. All of his scheming had been perfectly executed. It felt like cosmic forces were aligning with the specific goal of bringing them together. It hadn’t occurred to him that Phil would be anything less than enthusiastic.  
  
“Is something wrong?” Dan asked.  
  
“No. It’s nothing.” Phil shook his head. His hair fell so that it covered one eye and he pushed it back into place. “It makes me feel a bit creepy to lie to your parents, that’s all.”  
  
Dan rolled his eyes. “We’re not lying. It was a necessary alteration of reality.”  
  
“If it means you get to come here, I don't really care.”  
  
“My parents barely understand how email works,” Dan continued. “How the fuck was I going to explain YouTube to them?”  
  
Dan could tell that he sounded defensive, but it wasn't an exaggeration. His parents were under the impression that if you told someone your first name on the internet it would result in immediate identity theft. When Dan once mentioned that he could download music without having to leave his room, his father had told him in a stern voice that he better not be getting _swindled_. His mother still instructed her clients to book appointments for massages by phone or in person even though Dan had been offering to build her a personal website since he was thirteen years old.  
  
There was no way they would have agreed to let him see Phil if they'd known the full truth.  
  
Dan wasn't going to let _anything_ prevent that from happening.  
  
“Just say you're traveling three hours to see a guy you've never met before so you can make videos on the internet together.” Phil laughed. “I mean, how hard is it?”  
  
“Right,” Dan said. “Convincing them that I have a career in the adult film industry would really cushion the blow when I come out.”  
  
“Speaking of which,” Phil said after a brief pause, “you never called me back.”  
  
Dan felt his pulse quicken. His own nervousness was mirrored in Phil's expression. That was a small comfort.  
  
“Sorry. I was giving you time to back out,” Dan admitted. “I wasn't really thinking when I asked if you'd do it.”  
  
“I don’t want to back out.”  
  
“But I mean, we didn’t talk anything through yet. Like, you won't be able to date anyone else, right? Not until we fake break up at least.”  
  
Phil smiled at him. “Well, the same goes for you.”  
  
“And would it just be my family or could I tell my friends too?” Dan pushed his laptop onto his bed so it would stop burning the tops of his thighs. He wiped his palms on his jeans. “What about people who follow you online? Or even _your_ parents? Like, are you going to–”  
  
“Dan, stop,” Phil laughed. “I know we've got to work out the details, but I'm not going to change my mind. I want to do this.”  
  
“Are you really, _absolutely_ sure?” Dan asked.  
  
“I told you. I’m in,” Phil said. “At least, if you are?”  
  
“Yeah.” Dan licked his lips and nodded. “I’m in.”  


* * *

  
Dan could feel his eye twitching.  
  
“If you tell me that you don't care _one_ more time,” he said while pinching the bridge of his nose, “we're calling this whole thing off.”  
  
Phil shrugged. “But I don't.”  
  
“I'm going to scream. I am _actually_ going to scream.”  
  
Dan dropped his face into his hands. The sun had long departed and taken Dan's patience with it. He had an open text file next to his Skype window where he’d intended to list the restrictions that Phil wanted in place. They had been sorting out the specifics of their fabricated tryst for two hours and he'd only typed a handful of words.  
  
“I don't want to take advantage of you,” Dan insisted.  
  
Phil's lips twitched. “Not even a little bit?”  
  
Dan burrowed his face in a pillow. There was a line between good-natured teasing and _torture_ and Phil seemed to enjoy tap dancing along the edge of it. This was too much. Dan was ready to curl up into the fetal position. He'd wave a tiny white flag and admit defeat.  
  
“We're not going to figure everything out,” Phil said. “Can't we make things up as we go?”  
  
“No.” Dan lifted his head.  
  
“People are going to ask things we don't predict.”  
  
“Obviously.”  
  
“It's like you’re trying to write out a script.”  
  
“I'm not trying–”  
  
“But you _are_.”  
  
“Okay, fine.” Dan waved a hand in the air. “It'd be nice to have everything planned out. But I'd settle for just knowing what things I _can't_ say. There've got to be limitations, right?”  
  
“I already told you mine.” Phil rolled onto his side and tucked an arm underneath his head. “I don't want to confirm anything online. No tweets about dating or mentioning anything in a video or– wait, are you taking _notes_?”  
  
Dan stopped typing and crossed his arms.  
  
“No, don't let me stop you.” Phil laughed. “Write your own Fake Boyfriend Manifesto if it makes you feel better.”  
  
“I want to make sure the boundaries are clear.”  
  
“That's the only one I have,” Phil said. “We can still act the way we do now. There are people who already think we're dating.”  
  
Dan held back a smile. That was true. Phil’s more dedicated fans had a tendency to speculate on his relationship status. It made Dan's stomach flip every time he saw his own name mentioned. Some had picked up on how close they'd become in a relatively short amount of time. They watched their teasing banter and called it _flirting_.  
  
“And it's not just you,” Phil continued. “I've got about ten friends that people say I'm dating.”  
  
“Hm,” Dan said. “Right.”  
  
He’d read those ones too.  
  
“But that's all background noise.” Phil yawned and stretched his arms over his head. “I don't care about rumors.”  
  
“You honestly don't care what I tell people?” Dan asked. “There's nothing that would cross the line?”  
  
Phil shrugged. “Not really.”  
  
This was too much power. Dan couldn't think of a single person that he would trust to this extent. He didn't even like it when Erica would talk about their relationship with her friends and _those_ stories were actually real. It wasn't possible for someone to be this nonchalant about their image.  
  
“So if I tell my parents that we're madly in love,” Dan challenged, “you'd be fine with that.”  
  
“You're waiting until after we've actually met to do this, right?” Phil asked.  
  
Dan nodded.  
  
“If you think it's believable, go for it.”  
  
“Okay,” Dan said. “What if I said that I’m considering moving to be closer to you.”  
  
“I ask you to move to Manchester, like, every day.”  
  
“What if I told them we have sex?”  
  
“Sure,” Phil said. “Next.”  
  
“Next?” Dan sat up and shoved his laptop to the foot of his bed. The poor thing was in danger. He'd never felt more like strangling a computer. “You're just going to give me a free pass to make up whatever kinky things I want about you to my friends?”  
  
“The only limit is your own imagination,” Phil said. “Besides people would probably think you were joking.”  
  
Dan raised an eyebrow. His ability to create believable narratives was being seriously underestimated here. Improvisation skills were a source of pride for him.  
  
“Trust me,” Dan said. “They'd believe me.”  
  
A tiny smirk grew in the corner of Phil's mouth. “Okay.”  
  
“I'll tell everyone you dress me up in furry suits,” Dan threatened. “That you make a variety of animal mating calls during sex and the whiskers are a _requirement_ for you.”  
  
Phil threw back his head and rolled out of view of his webcam as he began to giggle. Dan could only see Phil's shoulder shaking with laughter in the corner of his Skype window. It sounded like Phil was shouting words of encouragement but Dan couldn't quite make them out.  
  
“Yeah, laugh now.” Dan stretched his legs out and tented his knees so he could rest his elbows on them. “Soon you'll be known as the pervert who can only get it up when costumes are involved. Everyone will have a visual of you making howling fox noises while you've got your dick in me.”  
  
Dan looked down at his computer screen to see Phil’s face come back into view. He was still fighting off laughter but his eyes were widened in shock.  
  
That last part may have been a _bit_ too detailed. Some damage control might be necessary. Dan opened his mouth to speak, but his mind had gone blank.  
  
“So that’s the configuration you imagine then?” Phil asked with a mischievous smile. “I guess that’s good to know. Might come up, right?”  
  
“Um,” Dan said. He cleared his throat. “I'd never really thought about it.”  
  
Phil's eyes were bright with amusement. “Yeah, sure.”  
  
It was obvious that Phil didn't believe him, but Dan _hadn't_ ever thought about it before. He didn't really know what to make of that. Phil had a starring role in every one of his most riveting wank fantasies, but he'd never actually thought about having sex with him.  
  
But that couldn't be true. Dan had definitely _thought_ about it. Maybe he just hadn't visualized it enough to work out the “configuration” as Phil called it. This was never an issue in porn, which Dan was embarrassed to admit was where most of his knowledge originated. Everyone always seemed to know what they wanted to do without having to discuss it.  
  
It had never occurred to Dan that this was something he might have to figure out for himself one day. The thought was intimidating.  
  
Dan looked back at his computer and swallowed around the lump in his throat. He'd completely missed what Phil was saying.  
  
“–and besides, you're all wrong,” Phil said. “Foxes don't howl.”  
  
“Don't they?” Dan asked distractedly.  
  
“It's more like a screeching bark noise.”  
  
Phil opened his mouth wide and let out a scratchy yowl in imitation. Dan automatically hit the volume button on his speakers in case anyone was passing by in the hallway outside his bedroom.  
  
“Sorry. Too loud?” Phil asked with a grin. “Anyway, if you're done, I've got a question of my own.”  
  
“Sure.” Dan tried to give him a casual smile. “Go for it.”  
  
“We've talked about limits and all that. What about privileges?”  
  
“Privileges?”  
  
“Yeah.” Phil nodded. “As your fake boyfriend, I feel like I should be awarded certain benefits. Don't you agree?”  
  
“I guess.” Dan leaned back on his hands and waited. He _knew_ that Phil was winding him up but it still made his pulse race to hear the words. They seemed to be back into casual banter territory. He could handle this. “What type of benefits do you want from me?”  
  
“There are rumors,” Phil dropped his voice to a whisper, “that you've made some videos you're going to post on the internet.”  
  
 _Shit._  
  
Dan grimaced. He should have seen this one coming.  
  
Phil gave a small bounce of excitement and beamed. “Do I get to see them now?”


	3. Chapter 3

“I need a break.” Dan collapsed onto Chloe's bed the moment he walked back into her room. The stripped mattress smelled like sweat. Or maybe that was him. “I'm not cut out for physical exertion.”  
  
“Dan, please.”  
  
“Please what? I'll get up eventually.”  
  
Dan had only carried two boxes downstairs to her car but it already felt like his lungs were filled with shards of glass. There was a stitch in his side. It was a truly pathetic sight.  
  
“You said that you'd _help_. Fine. Let's switch.” Chloe hurled a roll of tape onto the bed. “You pack and I'll haul.”  
  
There was a dirty joke buried in there somewhere, but Chloe's voice had taken on a high-pitched edge of panic that made Dan think it'd be better not to mention it. He shoved himself off the bed and sat on the floor beside her. They were surrounded by stacks of cardboard boxes that had careful labels on each side.  
  
“How do I own so many things?” Chloe's eyes darted around the room. “There's hardly any space left in my flat. Where the fuck is all this shit going?”  
  
“It probably won't even fit in your car.” Dan frowned as he picked at a roll of tape that had adhered to itself. “Why don't you just leave some of it?”  
  
“I can't.” Chloe stood up and ran an agitated hand through her hair. There were dark brown roots showing through faded blue. “My parents are turning this room into a home office. They told me to take anything I wanted to keep.”  
  
Dan's mouth dropped open. That was the ultimate betrayal.  
  
“You've only been in London for two weeks.”  
  
“Yeah,” she said. “It feels longer though. It's already weird being back here.”  
  
Chloe picked up a box from the stack at her feet and headed out the door. Dan sat cross-legged on the floor and began loading books into the next one with deliberate hesitation. He glanced around the room and tried to imagine it being anything other than Chloe's bedroom.  
  
There were still moon and star stickers on the ceiling from when she had gone through her glow-in-the-dark phase. Dan was struck with a vivid memory of watching from his current spot on the floor as Erica and Chloe took turns balancing on a footstool and putting them up. It should have been his job as the tallest one in their trio, but they didn't want to waste hours waiting as he lined each one up with impeccable precision. Amateurs.  
  
It'd only been five minutes before Chloe called it a masterpiece and Erica hopped down to turn the lights off. At first they couldn't see anything but then shapes started to rise out of the darkness. Dan asked Chloe how it worked, hoping she would illuminate them on the science behind her new obsession, but it'd been Erica who playfully shoved him onto his back and whispered _“it's magic, Howell”_ into his ear.  
  
They'd started dating the next day.  
  
Dan felt his lips curve into a smile. It would probably take a lot of scraping to peel the stickers off after so many years. Maybe Chloe's parents would keep them as decoration for their new office instead.  
  
Footsteps thudded up the stairs and Dan hurried to look busy. Chloe's cheeks were bright red as she pushed the door open and threw herself onto the floor beside him. She rolled onto her back and gasped for air.  
  
“You're right,” she said. “That part fucking sucks.”  
  
Dan reached over to pat her head. Her hair felt damp. “We need to go to the gym more often.”  
  
“Can't we just throw the boxes out the window?” Chloe lifted her head and stared at him with pleading eyes. “Or take turns?”  
  
Dan laughed and shoved the half-empty box closer to her. “Let's finish packing everything and we'll take the rest down together.”  
  
“Deal.” Chloe sat up and grinned.  
  
They sifted through her belongings in relative silence. Dan wanted to arrange the heaped piles of clothing by color, but Chloe illogically insisted on sorting them based on whether she intended to wear them again.  
  
Despite his complaints, Dan was enjoying himself. He'd been spending a lot of time by himself since his friends had left for university, except for the time he was on Skype with Phil. Human interaction was a nice change.  
  
“How's Erica doing?” Dan asked.  
  
“I don't know.” Chloe looked up from the pair of jeans she was examining for tears. “I haven't seen her since the party when you broke up.”  
  
“You haven't spoken to her at all?”  
  
“We've talked a bit,” Chloe admitted. “She's good. Her classes started and she likes them so far.”  
  
“That's good.” Dan frowned. “You know I'm happy about that, right? Even if we're not together, it’s not like I'm not hoping she’s miserable or anything.”  
  
“It's not that.” Chloe sighed and tossed the jeans aside. She turned to face him. “Erica's dating someone new.”  
  
“Oh,” Dan said. “Is she?”  
  
Chloe folded her arms as if waiting for some type of reaction. Dan kept his face neutral as he attempted to sort out what he was feeling. He searched himself for a spark of regret or jealousy, but all he found was mild surprise.  
  
“It's okay,” Dan said. “You don’t have to look at me like that. I'm not upset.”  
  
“Really?” Chloe stared at him with open suspicion. “Erica said you wouldn't be. I didn't believe her.”  
  
“She said that?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Dan felt a twinge of guilt. “Well, she wasn't wrong.”  
  
“This is such _bullshit_.” Chloe blinked and her eyes glazed over with tears. She swiped the back of her hand against them and gave a dry laugh. “You actually don't care.”  
  
Dan's eyes went wide with alarm. “Hey, don't– what's going on?”  
  
“You're both complete idiots.”  
  
Dan dropped the dress that he'd been folding and moved closer to pull Chloe into a hug. Offering comfort had never come easily to Dan, but Chloe didn't seem to notice how awkward and stiff his arms were. She sniffled and leaned her head onto his shoulder.  
  
“You two aren't even talking anymore,” she mumbled into his shirt collar.  
  
“I know.” Dan rested his chin on the top of her head. “It's always harder on the children when this happens.”  
  
“Shut up.” Chloe laughed. “It's just that everything feels different now.”  
  
“Probably because you've moved out,” Dan said. “It's your first month away from home and your parents are–”  
  
“No.” Chloe pulled away. “I thought you'd get back together. It's so weird, Dan.”  
  
“Even before we broke up,” Dan began in a careful tone, “things weren't that great.”  
  
“That's what Erica said too.”  
  
Dan nodded. It was a relief that he wasn't saying anything that she'd rather keep private. The last thing he wanted to do was cause more damage by disparaging their relationship.  
  
“It's true,” he said. “But, I mean, we could still be friends again one day. It's not like one of us died.”  
  
“I guess.” Chloe wrinkled her nose. “The new guy she's dating is nothing like you.”  
  
“That's good. It'd be really fucking creepy if he looked like me.”  
  
“I really, _really_ think if you just called her–”  
  
“Chloe, please,” Dan impulsively cut her off. “It's not going to happen. I'm dating someone too.”  
  
The words were quiet as he spoke them but seemed to expand until they filled the entire room. Chloe didn't speak for a moment. She stared at him with wide, red-rimmed eyes.  
  
Dan felt like he might be ill.  
  
There was a game that Dan had played as a child, which consisted of catching water balloons as they were thrown at you and trying to hold as many as possible without letting one fall to the ground. It was intended as a bit of silly fun to entertain a group of children on a sticky hot day, but Dan threw himself into the action with the bold eagerness of a small boy who had more interest in boasting over his victory than actually playing the game.  
  
The first balloon wasn't supposed to be a challenge. All you had to do was make sure it didn't slip through of your fingers, but a few of Dan's friends struggled because they were too busy laughing or jumping around the garden to keep a firm hold on it.  
  
Dan kept a punishing grip on his balloon. He clenched it as he watched his friends' half-hearted attempts not to drop their own. He squeezed it with so much vigor that it ended up bursting and drenching the front of his shirt with water.  
  
All of his friends had found it hilarious. He was the first one out of the game.  
  
It was a fitting lesson that Dan wished he'd taken to heart that day. The more he tried to keep control over a part of his life, the more it exploded all over him.  
  
“What?” Chloe asked. “Who the fuck are you dating?”  
  
Dan let out a nervous laugh. Hours of planning and little notes typed into text files and he'd already broken one of their rules. Phil had asked Dan not to say anything until after they'd met in person.  
  
That wasn't for another three days. Two train tickets were already tucked inside Dan's wallet.  
  
“It’s not important,” Dan said. “Just don't expect– we're really not getting back together, okay?”  
  
“How can you say that it's not _important_?”  
  
“Because it's not.”  
  
“You only broke up a couple weeks ago.”  
  
“I know that,” Dan snapped.  
  
“Is that why it happened?” Chloe asked. “Did you cheat on her?”  
  
“Wow. Thanks for that.” Dan stood up. He paced the length of the room and turned around. “You were there when it happened. You might remember that I wasn’t the one who stormed out.”  
  
Chloe folded her arms and looked away.  
  
“And speaking of which,” Dan continued, “do you really think Erica wouldn't have mentioned that part during her extensive list of everything that I'd done wrong in my entire life? Let's not pretend you didn't hear the whole thing.”  
  
“I get it.” Chloe released a breath but kept her eyes averted. “Sorry. That was stupid. I know you wouldn't do that.”  
  
Dan's jaw relaxed as his irritation dissipated. If he was honest with himself, it wasn't Chloe's question that made him angry. The ambiguous nature of relationships was maddening to him. There were nights spent talking to Phil through the intangible connection of the internet that felt more intimate than anything he'd ever experienced with Erica. He didn't know what to make of that.  
  
But they weren't even _actually_ dating now. There was no way it could be considered cheating.  
  
“It's fine.” Dan leaned his head against the wall. He felt extremely tired all of a sudden. “Don't worry about it.”  
  
“Are you really dating someone?” Chloe asked.  
  
Dan paused before responding. Every instinct he had was screaming that this was a bad idea. He nodded slowly.  
  
“His name is Phil.”  


* * *

  
  
Dan felt a crushing wave of relief when he saw that Phil was already signed onto Skype when he returned home several hours earlier than he'd intended.  
  
Not that he was upset by his conversation with Chloe. It wasn't like he _wanted_ to waste his entire afternoon loading boxes into her car. He just needed to spit out the apology that had been burning in his throat from the moment Phil's name had left his mouth.  
  
“Why are you apologizing?” Phil's eyes were wide and sincere. It hurt to look directly at them. “I mean, Dan, the only reason I gave an opinion about when we should start telling people was because you looked like you might kill me if I told you I didn't care one more time.”  
  
“It was fucking awful of me,” Dan said. “I asked her not to say anything online, but she was too ripshit to agree. I don't know. She probably won't.”  
  
“I don't care about that.”  
  
“How can you–”  
  
“We'll just deny it.” Phil shrugged. “I told you that rumors don't get to me. I knew that might happen when I agreed to this.”  
  
“She thinks you're some kind of internet predator.” Dan let out a weak laugh. “Like, I knew it might be hard to come out, but I didn't expect things to go that wrong.”  
  
“No, wait a minute.” Phil sat up in his bed and adjusted his laptop so that Dan could see his face close up. “She was upset because two of her best friends aren't speaking anymore. And she was hoping you were going to get jealous and try to fix things with Erica, right?”  
  
“I guess.” Dan glanced at the YouTube progress bar that was frozen beside his Skype window. “Is it normal that the upload hasn't changed for about ten minutes?”  
  
“Oh, yeah.” Phil grimaced. “I'll be surprised if you don't have to start the whole thing over at least two more times before it works.”  
  
“Are you fucking kidding me?”  
  
“Nope. Welcome to the world of vlogging. It'd help if we got off Skype but I want to be here for this.” Phil laughed. “And stop changing the subject.”  
  
“We don't have to talk about it.”  
  
“Please?”  
  
Dan pulled at a loose string on the hem of his shirt and nodded. He didn't look at his computer screen. Phil was persuasive enough without being exposed to his pleading eyes.  
  
“You said that she was already crying. So, like, emotions were high, you know? And she got angry because she thinks you're dating someone you've never met and it's dangerous.” Phil waited for a moment with an uncertain expression. “Did she actually say anything bad about you being bisexual?”  
  
“No,” Dan said. “But her first question was to ask if I was gay.”  
  
“You know, that's not an _insult_.”  
  
Dan raised an eyebrow. “I know.”  
  
Phil paused. “I get that there were dickheads at school who–”  
  
“Really, Phil, that's not it.” Dan looked away from the screen. “And maybe you're right about the rest too, but it just– as soon as she asked, it made me feel like I had to defend myself.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“I don’t know.” Dan pushed a hand through his hair. “You don’t get freaked out by labels?”  
  
Phil lifted a hand and shrugged.  
  
Dan snorted. Of course he didn’t.  
  
Labels were tidy little boxes with comforting perimeters that kept the world in order. It wasn't that Dan was resistant to having one. He loved everything that helped keep his life neat and organized.  
  
It was that none of them ever felt like the perfect fit.  
  
“Let me try to explain. It's kind of like when you go into AllSaints,” Dan said. “You start looking at shirts and going through what's on display and it's all sexy as fuck until you start trying them on and then you realize one has weird sleeves and another is too long in the back, you know? You don't want any of them.”  
  
“You shop at AllSaints?” Phil asked.  
  
“I’m not finished,” Dan said. “So then you _finally_ try one on that you like, right? You look in the mirror and it works. So you buy it. Then you walk down the street and it’s like, I don’t know, suddenly you’re worried because everyone can see you in it and maybe you were wrong before. Maybe it looks like shit on you. Know what I mean?”  
  
Phil squinted at him. “All of their clothes are about a million pounds.”  
  
“Wow, missing the point so hard right now.” Dan laughed.  
  
“No, _you_ are.” Phil shook his head. “Think about how many tickets to Manchester you could buy.”  
  
“But what would I wear once I got there?”  
  
Phil opened his mouth to respond but closed it again without speaking. His eyes twinkled with amusement. Dan felt his cheeks flush.  
  
“I’m sorry. Continue,” Phil said. “What do overpriced shirts have to do with Chloe?”  
  
“It's just– I don't know,” Dan said. He rubbed his forehead. Fucking hell, it would be nice to explain something without waffling for half a day. “How do you know you're not gay?”  
  
Phil smirked. “Sarah Michelle Gellar, mostly.”  
  
“I'm serious.”  
  
“Me too.” Phil tilted his head back and let out a sigh.  
  
Dan rolled his eyes.  
  
“I don't know what kind of answer you want,” Phil said. “Calling myself bisexual felt right the first time I actually sat down and thought about it. I guess that never really changed.”  
  
Dan blinked at him. “You thought about it one day and it... felt right.”  
  
Phil nodded.  
  
“And you never thought about it again?” Dan asked.  
  
“Pretty much.”  
  
“No lingering doubts at all?”  
  
It seemed impossible. Dan was torn between irritation that anyone could have that much self-assurance and awed gratitude that Phil actually existed. Sometimes the universe came up with incredible things.  
  
“Not really.” Phil grinned at him. “But you think about those things more than me. It’s not weird to be confused.”  
  
“I'm not confused,” Dan said. “I'm _frustrated_.”  
  
“Oh, no. That’s too bad.” Phil tapped one finger against his bottom lip. “I wonder if I can think of some way to help with that.”  
  
Dan laughed. Never mind. The universe was perverse. It was trying to kill him.  
  
“Why don't you– oh, holy _fuck_.”  
  
Dan glanced outside of his Skype window and felt his stomach drop. The progress bar on his upload had jumped from the midpoint to near complete in seconds and was quickly speeding through the final percentage points. Dan pushed his computer away like it was going to explode.  
  
“What happened?” Phil asked. “Uh, Dan?”  
  
“The video is about to finish loading. Shit, shit, _shit_.”  
  
Dan jumped off his bed. His heart was pounding. He couldn't believe what a colossal mistake this had been. Anyone would be able to watch it. His friends from school. Erica. His grandparents used the internet sometimes.  
  
He paced the length of his room with his hands tucked behind his neck. He could make out the sound of Phil's laughter sounding out of his speakers. It was comforting in a way.  
  
“Should I tell you when it's up?” Phil asked. “Are you there? Cough twice if you've been attacked and I should call for emergency assistance.”  
  
Dan stopped pacing and stood at the foot of his bed. Phil waved when he came back into view.  
  
“I need a minute,” Dan said. “Is that okay?”  
  
Phil nodded and gave him an absentminded thumbs up. He was staring down at his keyboard and typing. Dan didn’t worry about it. He practically ran out of the room.  
  
It took five minutes of standing in his empty kitchen before Dan's pulse returned to normal. He took a small sip of water from the full glass in his hand before pouring the rest down the drain.  
  
This wasn’t the end of the world. Some of his friends might laugh at him. There were worse things that could happen. Living a small life of unfulfilled dreams out of fear was possibly the worst thing he could imagine.  
  
Dan took a deep breath before setting the glass on the side of the sink and trudging back to his bedroom. He plopped onto his bed with a casual smile.  
  
“I'm back,” he said. “Is the video working?”  
  
“Yep.”  
  
“And?” Dan choked out.  
  
“It's brilliant. All of the edits you made are great,” Phil said. “I added your annotations in. That's okay, right? Were you going to change any since the version you showed me?”  
  
“Oh, fuck. Thanks.” Dan nodded. He'd completely forgotten about those. It was fortunate that he hadn't changed his password in a fit of paranoia since sharing it with Phil last week. “Think anyone's watched it yet?”  
  
Phil's smile was a radiant burst. “Check your email.”  
  
Dan swallowed and moved the Skype window out of the way. He'd kept his expectations low. It wasn't going to crush him if there wasn't much of a response. This was just an introduction video and besides it had taken Phil over a year before he built up more than a hundred subscribers.  
  
“Okay.” Dan opened his email. Blinked twice. “This can't be right.”  
  
Phil laughed. “I tweeted a link and told people to check you out.”  
  
There were rows of bold text indicating unread notifications. People were commenting. There were even people _subscribing_ to him. Dan refreshed the tab. More notifications appeared. He looked back at Phil to see him waiting with unrestrained excitement.  
  
“There are– shit, people are subscribing.”  
  
“I knew it. See? I _told_ you they'd love you.” The image of Phil's face went blurry as he bounced on his bed. “It's not rude to say 'I told you so' when it's about nice things.”  
  
“I can't believe this.” Dan stared at the screen. It had been less than ten minutes and the video had gained more than a hundred views. “Do you swear that you didn't, like, create a bunch of fake accounts to make me feel better?”  
  
Phil laughed. Dan let out a weak chuckle with him. It was probably better to let him believe that was a joke.  
  
“What should I do now?”  
  
Adrenaline was melting away the shock. It felt like he should run down the street screaming. Or walk into a bar and challenge someone with multiple facial piercings to a fight.   
  
“Respond to their comments,” Phil said.  
  
Dan nodded. That was a better idea. He should always remember to ask Phil about these things.  
  
A smile stretched his face so wide that it almost hurt. There weren't even any mean comments. Everyone was excited to see what he was going to do next.  
  
“I'm going to make another video,” he said.  
  
“Obviously.” Phil laughed. “We're making one together in a few days.”  
  
“No, sooner than that.” Dan shook his head. He stopped typing out responses and bent his fingers back to crack the knuckles. “I want another one up before I leave. Like, a proper one. I've got some that are almost done.”  
  
“Your face is bright red.”  
  
“Is it?”  
  
Phil nodded and dropped his voice like he was sharing a secret. “You look happy.”  
  
“I am,” Dan said. “I’m so fucking happy.”  
  
“You're addicted now.” Phil grinned. “There's no going back. You're going to be like me. Just wait. We’ll be all grey and wrinkled, sitting on our beds and making videos about our dentures together.”  
  
“Rude,” Dan said. “I'm staying young and pretty forever.”  
  
“Fine, whatever. I'll be old and you'll still be young and pretty and we'll be– no, I'm sorry.” Phil cringed. “That sounded too wrong. We have to grow old together.”  
  
Dan smiled down at his keyboard and resumed typing.  
  
“Okay,” he said. “I can make that sacrifice. If you absolutely insist.”  
  
Phil gave a solemn nod. “I do.”  


* * *

  
  
The train station was packed.  
  
Dan would have preferred a more dramatic entrance when he arrived in Manchester, but the mob of people behind him didn't leave any opportunity to stand in the open doorway and scan the crowd.  
  
There was a mechanical shudder as the train came to a halt and then everyone filed out in unison. The platform smelled of iron and sweat. A man jostled Dan's elbow as he swerved around him. It was too chaotic to see anyone’s face.  
  
Dan made his way to the open space where Phil had said they’d meet and fumbled in his pocket. He looked up just as his fingers closed around his phone and stopped.  
  
It was Phil. He was standing by the mammoth illuminated sign that listed arrivals and departures and squinting at Dan as if he wasn't quite sure if he should wave or not.  
  
The bustle of the train station seemed to fall away. Dan lifted a hand and watched as Phil's face broke out into a smile.  
  
They both quickened their pace without speaking until there was no space between them and Phil was opening his arms for a hug. He didn't hesitate a second before throwing them around Dan's shoulders.  
  
Dan tentatively wrapped his arms around Phil's waist and squeezed back. He could feel the solid warmth of his body pressed against his own. It was a perfect fit. Phil might have an extra inch or two on him, but he could still tuck his chin into the crook of his neck.  
  
Maybe Dan would lose the return ticket in his wallet. He’d be forced to stay here, forever enveloped in the sanctuary of Phil's arms.  
  
“Hi,” he breathed into Phil's shoulder.  
  
Phil laughed and pulled away. “Hi.”  
  
He kept Dan at arm's length and stared like he was searching his face for something.  
  
“I can't believe it.” Phil pressed a hand against his cheek. “You're real.”  
  
Phil's hands were soft and warm. They were touching him. Dan felt a jolt in his stomach.  
  
“Yeah,” he said. “I guess so.”


	4. Chapter 4

Sensory overload was an understatement. Every nerve ending was a live wire.  
  
Dan had developed a mental inventory of all things related to Phil, but months of cataloging each mannerism and facial expression had still left him unprepared for meeting him. He was used to a steady drip of information fed to him through pixels. This was a flood.  
  
Phil's skin was warm to the touch even though he wore short sleeves. He walked with long, determined strides, setting an ambitious pace that Dan struggled to match. His cologne was crisp and refreshing. It had sweet undertones reminiscent of oak trees when the weather turned cool and leaves started to fall. The scent lingered after their hug in the train station and Dan could still make out a trace of it in the air every time Phil turned his head to speak. It was an effort not to strain closer.  
  
“Do you know what you're ordering?” Phil asked. He placed a hand on Dan's elbow.  
  
Phil also liked to touch him to get his attention, even when they were standing right next to each other in queue at Starbucks and a simple word would be enough.  
  
“I'm tempted to get decaf actually,” Dan said. “I get even more obnoxious when I'm caffeinated and I'm already hyper, but that'd be stupid because I've been up for ages and I bet that I crash as soon– and I don't want to– um, yeah, I don't know, I usually get a latte. Anything with my body weight in sugar is nice.”  
  
Phil smiled and nodded as if those were sensible words that humans might actually use to communicate. Dan struggled to breathe.  
  
“Do you want to grab a table then?” Phil dropped his hand, allowing his palm to stroke down Dan's forearm before pulling away. “Someone just left. By the window.”  
  
The café was full of the typical midday crowd. Dan ducked behind a group of men in tailored business suits talking over each other in booming voices and passed by students in their early twenties typing away on laptops before claiming the table Phil wanted. It was a relief to have a moment to collect his breath. Dan dropped heavily into the wooden chair and rested his elbows on the table. He stared out the window at the street traffic to settle his nerves.  
  
Phil joined him several minutes later. He placed two large mugs on the table as he sat down. Dan grinned at the mountain of whipped cream on top.  
  
“Nice choice,” Dan said. “What do I owe you?”  
  
“Nothing.” Phil drew a finger through a drizzle of caramel and licked it off. “My treat. Consider it one of those benefits we talked about earlier.”  
  
Dan took a careful sip before responding. “That doesn't seem right. You're the one doing me the favor after all.”  
  
“You know, I've been thinking about that.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I haven't really done anything yet,” Phil said. “How’ve I even helped? The only person you've told is Chloe and now she's not talking to you.”  
  
“That's not your fault.”  
  
“I still feel bad. I mean, she's your best friend.”  
  
Dan shrugged and set down his mug. “Not really.”  
  
“Oh, I just thought–” Phil looked up from his drink in surprise. “You talk about her more than any of your other friends.”  
  
“Her best friend is Erica. It always has been.” Dan collected a heap of whipped cream on his spoon and took a moment to savor the mouthful. He leaned back in his chair and looked out the window. “She's probably my closest friend. I'm just not hers, you know?”  
  
Phil was silent. Dan glanced back at him to see that his expression had turned downcast. He rolled his eyes.

“It's not _that_ terrible.” Dan forced a smile. “I mean, I've got friends. Lots of them. It's just– I've never had a best friend, like, someone who ranked me above everyone else. So you don't have to worry that you've ruined that for me or something.”  
  
“Yeah, I get it.” Phil nodded. “I still want to help. I’ve worked out a plan.”  
  
“Okay.” Dan frowned in confusion. “How do you mean?”  
  
“Tell me what you think.” Phil leaned over the table and dropped his voice. “Is Chloe the type to stalk someone's facebook and twitter even when she's not speaking to them?”  
  
“Oh, yeah. Definitely.” Dan laughed. “I'd be surprised if she wasn't checking yours too.”  
  
“Perfect. That's what I was hoping.” Phil gave him an impish smile. He picked his mug up with both hands and raised it to his lips. “Get ready to take a lot of pictures today.”  


* * *

  
  
Phil's plan started small. A quick tweet to say they were in Starbucks would prove he hadn't axed Dan into pieces on sight.  
  
It grew steadily as the day progressed. Phil had mapped out a fast-paced schedule for their afternoon together and Dan got swept up in the excitement of wandering down unfamiliar streets and stopping by interesting shops.  
  
“Isn't that enough now?” Dan laughed as Phil threw an arm over his shoulder and held his phone up to take another picture outside a video game store. He paused to smile and then continued. “I can't post all of these. Our goal is happy couple, right? This is heading toward narcissist twat.”  
  
“You don't have to post them anywhere,” Phil said. “Now get yours out.”  
  
Dan snapped a near identical photo with his own camera and took a careful step away from where he was tucked against Phil's body. It would be too easy to get comfortable there. Phil looked over his shoulder to confirm that the photo had taken.  
  
“These are for your friends,” he said. “So, like, the next time it won't be weird. Instead of some creepy guy on the internet, they'll just see normal pictures of your new boyfriend. Right?”  
  
Dan nodded. “Yeah.”  
  
The added benefit was he now had a collection of dozens of photos to preserve their entire day together. That would be helpful when he went home and started to wonder if it had all been a dream. Dan frowned at the thought, but he only had a moment before he was being ushered down the busy streets of Manchester to their next stop.  
  
There was only one time when Phil was recognized. They were leaving the Apple Store and Phil was giving a convincing, yet impractical, argument for why Dan should replace his current laptop with a new Mac when a cluster of girls in their early teens approached them. Phil gave them all hugs before introducing Dan as a new youtuber and insisting he be included in their group picture.  
  
“That was so embarrassing,” Dan muttered under his breath as they walked away. “You really don't have to do that.”  
  
Phil shrugged. “It was for their benefit. Think how disappointed they'd be in a few months when they realized they'd met you but hadn't asked for a picture.”  
  
“Yeah, sure.” Dan laughed. “So where are we headed next?”  
  
Phil glanced at his phone. “We're right on time actually.”  
  
“For what?”  
  
Phil grinned and started walking. “You'll see.”  


* * *

  
  
“Okay.” Dan looked up and down the street warily. “Are we going to see a film?”  
  
The sun was beginning to set. Dan honestly thought their final stop might be the bus that would take them back to Phil's house, but instead they were standing on a crowded street between a cinema and a skyscraper hotel. It appeared to be an affluent area. Dan watched a group of women walk through the revolving doors wearing designer coats and glitzy jewelry. He doubted he’d be able to afford a bowl of popcorn.  
  
Phil laughed. “No.”  
  
Dan glanced between the cinema and hotel in confusion. He didn't imagine Phil was putting them up for the night. Though it wasn’t an unappealing thought.  
  
“I don't–”  
  
“There's a bar at the top,” Phil explained. “We can watch the sunset, take pictures of the view, you know.”  
  
“It looks fancy.”  
  
“Yeah, well, don't worry. I have reservations.” Phil lowered his voice. “If we were together, this would be like our first date.”  
  
Dan shook his head. “I can't afford it.”  
  
“You paid for the train tickets to get here. So, I mean, it's the least I can do.” Phil placed a hand on his arm. “Unless you really don't want to go?”  
  
Dan bit his lip and stared up at the towering building. Watching the sunset over the city would be a gorgeous view from the top. He'd never been on a romantic date before. The fact that it wasn't a _real_ date probably should have been off-putting, but it was taking all of his will power not to jump at the offer. It had to show. Phil could probably see right through his hesitation and know he was seconds away from swooning.  
  
“I like cocktails.” Dan began doing up his buttons to the collar to hide the t-shirt he was wearing underneath. He gave a casual shrug. “And sunsets are nice.”  
  
“Great.” Phil smiled and bounced on his heels.  


* * *

  
  
The brief house tour did not end in Phil's bedroom as Dan quietly hoped. He only got a glimpse of it before being tugged back downstairs to the guest room as if there was a rush to get to sleep.  
  
“This is actually my brother's room,” Phil said as he pushed the door open, “but he won't mind.”  
  
Dan stepped inside without bothering to turn the lamp on. The bed was already made up with clean sheets and large fluffy pillows. He crawled onto it and turned over on his back so that he could watch Phil linger in the doorway with an uncertain expression.  
  
“Got everything you need?” he asked.  
  
Dan nodded and tried to blink away his blurred vision.  
  
“Your house is sort of creepy.”  
  
“I know.” Phil paused and dropped his hand from the doorknob. “I told you it's haunted.”  
  
Dan laughed and closed his eyes. He didn't know why the room didn't want to stay still. The cocktails they'd shared weren't _that_ strong. They'd tasted too sweet, in fact, sliding down his throat with ease while he sucked salt off his glass to balance the flavors.  
  
Maybe it was the late hour. They’d stayed until the view from their table changed from sunset to a stretch of blinking city lights. Also he'd woken early to finish packing and make it to the train station on time. It had to be sleep deprivation.  
  
“At least there aren’t dolls in this room.”  
  
Dan opened his eyes. “True.”  
  
“If you’re settled, I guess I'll just–”  
  
“What if I have a nightmare?” Dan tucked his hands behind his head. “Maybe I should come stay with you.”  
  
Phil's mouth lifted at the corners but he didn't laugh. He stepped inside the room, leaving the door cracked to allow a sliver of light. He climbed onto the bed and Dan shifted to make room for him.  
  
“You have a lot of bad dreams?” Phil asked.  
  
Dan turned on his side to face him. The room spun for another moment before settling into place. He almost shook his head but thought better of it.  
  
“Not really. But I don’t want you to leave.” Dan yawned and pulled a pillow free to tuck under his head. “I say a lot of things without thinking. And I like flirting with you because it's fun. I never know what to expect because sometimes you'll look at me all shocked with big eyes and then you'll– and sometimes it's like you'll come out with these dirty jokes back and it's fun when you do that. You're fun. And now I've said _fun_ so many times it doesn't sound like a word.”  
  
Phil smiled. “It's been a fun day.”  
  
“Fun,” Dan agreed. “This is fun. I like being in bed with you.”  
  
“Wow.” Phil laughed. “That was painful. I'm never drinking with you again.”  
  
“I didn't even have that much.”  
  
“Yeah, that's what I thought too.” Phil reached over to smooth Dan's hair back. “Didn't figure you for a lightweight.”  
  
“I'm not,” Dan said.  
  
He wanted to give a more articulate argument because his dignity was at stake, but fell silent when Phil didn't move his hand away.  
  
Phil's expression was glossy and soft. He ran his fingers through Dan's hair as if intent on pushing every strand of it off his forehead. Dan tried not to move. He stared ahead with a fixed gaze until his eyes stung.  
  
The scrape of dull fingernails made his scalp tingle. It sent shivers down his back. His self-restraint broke and he leaned into the touch, shuffling closer to Phil on the bed.  
  
The movement broke Phil out of his trance. He blinked, hand caught at the nape of Dan's neck. His eyes unglazed. “Sorry.”  
  
“Sorry?” Dan asked. The word didn't make sense. It seemed impossible that anything could be wrong when pleasure like that existed in the world. “What for?”  
  
“I was, uh, sort of petting you.” Phil pulled his hand away with a quiet laugh.  
  
“Oh,” Dan said. The words twisted around in his mind as he tried to make sense of why Phil had stopped touching him. “That’s okay.”  
  
“I should go to bed.”  
  
“Don’t go.”  
  
Dan stared at Phil's hands resting on the bed. He considered picking them up and forcibly dragging them back through his hair and down his skin.  
  
Phil pushed himself into a sitting position. “No, I think that–”  
  
“I wanted to talk about something,” Dan interrupted. “Don't go yet.”  
  
“You did?” Phil remained upright with his legs swung over the edge of the bed. “Is something wrong?”  
  
“No, but it's sort of awkward to say.” Dan licked his lips. It hadn't been true, of course, and he fumbled to latch onto the first topic of conversation that might make Phil stay. “Can I ask you a personal sort of question?”  
  
“Yeah, of course. What about?”  
  
“Um, well,” Dan paused. “Sex.”  
  
Phil stared at him with an alarmed expression. That probably wasn't the safest route to pick, but Dan pressed on. It was hardly a surprise that it was the first topic that came to mind.  
  
“In a general sense,” he clarified. “I thought maybe the fake boyfriend benefits you mentioned might include asking invasive sexual questions? Because it's like– I haven't done all that much and, you know, it's all sort of new to me.”  
  
Phil nodded slowly. He pulled his legs onto the bed and sat back against the headboard.  
  
“You worry about that a lot,” Phil said.  
  
Dan fought through his muddled thoughts. “No, I don't.”  
  
“What'd you want to ask?”  
  
“How did you know what you’d like before you'd actually done it?”  
  
Phil stared down at him with a confused expression.  
  
Dan turned onto his stomach and dropped his head into his arms. It figured that in his attempt at flirting, he'd stumble onto something that he actually did want to bring up. Nothing could be simple.  
  
“Remember what we were talking about a while back? When I said I was going to tell people we were fucking. I’d honestly never thought about it,” Dan said. “That’s weird, right? And what if I think that I’ll like something but then it turns out that I hate it? That’d be awful.”  
  
“I'm not really following.” Phil leaned back and closed his eyes. “No, actually, I think maybe I am, but this is probably something we should– I don't know, my mind isn't working at top form right now.”  
  
“Right,” Dan said. “Yeah, no, that's fine.”  
  
“Wait, just– it's not a requirement, you know.” Phil opened his eyes. He sighed and ran a hand down his face. “It wouldn't matter. No one has it all figured out from the start and you can’t expect someone to know for sure, I mean, that's sort of a fucked up way of thinking.”  
  
Dan's eyes flicked from Phil's face to his fidgeting hands. He wanted to tell him that they didn't have to talk about it. There was no reason to have this conversation right now, but curiosity forced him into silence.  
  
“It’s not weird. Some people just aren't into,” Phil paused as if searching for the words to make this conversation less awkward, “you know, penetration. Like, at all.”  
  
Dan cringed at the word. It sounded so clinical. “I didn’t say that I wasn’t into it.”  
  
“Well, it’s not weird to not know.”  
  
“What about you?” Dan asked. “Have you ever been fucked?”  
  
There was a breath of shocked laughter beside him. Dan instantly regretted his tactless phrasing. Maybe it would have been better to imitate Phil's sterile language so that he didn't sound obscene. Or like it was a proposition.  
  
The room was silent for long enough that Dan was convinced Phil wasn't going to answer, but then he cleared his throat.  
  
“Yeah,” Phil said.  
  
“Really?” Dan turned his head to look at him. It wasn't the answer he’d expected. He wasn’t sure why he’d expected anything. “What's it like?”  
  
Phil laughed. “Are you talking about how it feels?”  
  
“Yeah.” Dan shrugged. He wasn’t sure what else he could mean. “I guess.”  
  
“That's something people can explore all on their own, you know.” Phil looked down at his hands. “Actually take that bit as advice. I mean, before you ever– with another person.”  
  
“Is that what you did?”  
  
Phil slumped down on the bed with an embarrassed smile. “I was no stranger to exploring.”  
  
“Yeah?” Dan's eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting so that he could make out Phil's profile with perfect clarity. It felt as if they'd stepped outside of reality. He could say anything, ask anything, and it would only exist in this dark, hazy moment they were sharing. “Do you have any advice then?”  
  
“Advice?” Phil asked.  
  
Dan's eyes were drawn to Phil's fingers. They were in constant motion, worrying the hem of his shirt and then moving to twist around a loose thread. Those fingers had been in his hair only moments ago.  
  
“I've tried before,” Dan said.  
  
Phil looked puzzled but then his eyes widened in realization. “Oh.”  
  
It'd been a lark inspired by a particularly stirring bit of porn where a guy fucked himself with his own fingers while getting a blow job. Dan had watched in open-mouthed awe as the man’s eyes rolled back in ecstasy every time he sank down onto his hand. The image stayed with Dan for days until he couldn't resist trying it himself. He'd got on his knees in the exact position he'd seen, but it hadn't invoked much of a reaction at all when he slid one spit-slick finger inside himself.  
  
“It felt weird,” Dan admitted. “Not painful, just not– I don't know, maybe I was doing it wrong.”  
  
“Were you hard when you started?” Phil's teeth dug into his bottom lip as soon as the words left his mouth as if he hadn't meant to say them.  
  
Dan shook his head.  
  
“You won’t feel much if you’re not.” Phil exhaled slowly. “Try doing it first thing in the morning sometime when you're relaxed. And use lots of lube.”  
  
Dan fought a losing battle to keep his breath under control. A warm rush went through his body when Phil said _hard_ and his pulse picked up speed with every following word. His chest visibly rose and fell as he waited for Phil to continue.  
  
Phil remained silent, staring up at the ceiling like he wasn't quite sure what he was doing there.  
  
“That's good to know.” Dan swallowed. “Helpful, I mean. I didn't– anything else?”  
  
“Don't move your fingers around.” Phil turned to look at him. In the darkness, Dan couldn't tell if he was flushing. “Don't, like, push them in and out too much. Just curl them and keep pressing until you find the right spot.”  
  
“Yeah?” Dan moved closer until his knee touched the side of Phil's thigh.  
  
Phil stared down at where their legs were touching for several seconds and then jerked upright. “I need to get some water.”  
  
Phil was standing and fumbling his way to the door before Dan could think to protest. He swayed as he walked and reached a hand out for the wall as if steadying himself.  
  
“Water?”  
  
“Yeah,” Phil said over his shoulder. “Don't want to have a hangover tomorrow. You're okay?”  
  
Dan nodded, startled by the frantic tone of voice. “Yeah, I'm good.”  
  
Phil wrenched the door open and Dan flinched as light from the hallway flooded the room.  
  
“Make yourself at home if you wake up before me,” Phil said. “Good night.”  
  
“Night.”  
  
The door closed. Dan pressed his face into the pillow and groaned.  


* * *

  
  
There was no ensuite bathroom, which meant Dan would eventually have to leave the guest room. He dressed slowly before poking his head out the door. He wasn’t lying when he’d said the house was creepy. It was large and there weren’t enough windows to illuminate the rooms, leaving shadowy corners that Phil’s mother seemed to enjoy filling with a collection of antique toys.  
  
It was strange being the only person awake at a friend's house. Dan felt guilty when a floorboard creaked in the hallway, but maybe that was just humiliation spilling over from his memories of their late night conversation.  
  
Dan took a quick shower and pulled on fresh clothes before realizing that he’d forgotten to pack toothpaste. He stood in the bathroom and stared at the mirror cabinet with folded arms. It felt invasive to open it, but Phil _had_ told him to make himself at home.  
  
Before he could make a decision, his phone began playing the upbeat ringtone that meant Chloe was calling. He pulled it out of his pocket. It'd shown several new notifications when he woke up, but he hadn't checked them yet.  
  
“Hello?” he answered.  
  
“Oh, good,” Chloe said. “You're alive.”  
  
“Yeah.” Dan held the phone with one hand and opened the bathroom cabinet to scan the contents. His heart missed a beat when his eye caught a bottle of lubricant on the bottom shelf. “Why wouldn't I be?”  
  
“Oh, I don't know.” Chloe's voice was sardonic. “Maybe because I've been texting you all day asking if you'd been murdered during the night and you never responded.”  
  
“I just woke up. Sorry.”  
  
Dan plucked the small bottle off the shelf and uncapped it. Either Phil was the only person who ever used this bathroom or he'd grown comfortable being alone in the house since his parents left on holiday a month ago. He held it under his nose and inhaled the scent of coconut. It reminded him of suntan lotion. He quickly closed the bottle and shoved it back onto the shelf.  
  
“It's almost noon,” Chloe said. “I've already had _two_ classes.”  
  
“Yeah, well, I'm not in school.” Dan bristled at her accusatory tone but tried to keep his own voice neutral. It was the first time they'd spoken since their argument last week. “I haven't read your texts yet. Everything okay?”  
  
There was a long pause. “I guess so.”  
  
“Okay, good.” Dan grabbed the tube of toothpaste and closed the door. “Look, I'm glad you called. I've been–”  
  
“I have to go,” Chloe interrupted. “Another class soon. Have a great time with Phil though.”  
  
There was a click and the call disconnected. Dan sighed before slipping the phone back into his pocket and continuing on with his morning routine. It was a good sign that she'd called him at all.  
  
When Dan finally left the bathroom, he could hear a kettle boiling. He followed the sound to the kitchen where Phil was clutching a mug as he stared at the sink with a slack expression. The faucet was turned on and the monotonous drip seemed to have hypnotized him.  
  
“Good morning,” Dan said uncertainly.  
  
Phil looked at him over his shoulder. He reached to turn the tap off. “Hi. Did you sleep well?”  
  
“Yeah.” Dan stepped closer and leaned against the counter. “No hangover either. That was a pleasant surprise.”  
  
“Lucky. Wish I could say the same.” Phil yawned and stretched his arms over his head. “I'll be fine after coffee though.”  
  
“Good.” Dan paused. “So, um, sorry if I got weird last night. I was a couple notches higher on the drunk scale than I’d realized.”  
  
“Yeah, I could say the same.” Phil dropped his hands to his sides and laughed. “How about breakfast?”  
  
Dan nodded. “I'm starving.”  
  
“Me too.” Phil turned to pull plates down and grab silverware out of a drawer. “We have to wait for people to tweet us questions before we film so I figure we'll have a lazy day. Make a ton of food, watch some films.”  
  
“Which one?”  
  
“You can choose.” Phil pulled the fridge door open. “Go hunt through my collection. I’m not feeling picky.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Dan smiled at how unfazed Phil seemed after their overly intimate conversation. There was still a part of him that was waiting for something to ruin the comfortable ease that seemed to exist between them since the first time they’d talked. He turned to leave the kitchen but stopped when he heard his name called.  
  
“Yeah?” he asked.  
  
Phil gave Dan a wide smile. He was holding a carton of eggs and what looked like a package of sausages as he shut the fridge with his hip. “It’s really _fun_ having you here.”  
  
“Okay.” Dan laughed and turned away. “Shut up.”


	5. Chapter 5

A lazy day for Dan consisted of lying prone as he worked through an entire season of a television show until reality and fiction began to blur. Food preparation was limited to five minutes. Snacks where you only had to rip open a bag with your teeth were preferred.  
  
It seemed like that should be the universal definition, but Phil had an atypical amount of energy even while nursing a hangover. His version of relaxation included making an elaborate breakfast for two and diligently responding to emails on his phone. It was a bit intimidating to see the responsible adult side of him. Dan sat on the opposite end of the sofa and tried to keep quiet as he sifted through Phil's DVD collection for something he'd already watched.  
  
It was a prudent decision. They didn't make it through the menu screen before Phil started talking.  
  
“We should have a song,” he said.  
  
“What do you mean?” Dan pressed play on the remote. “You mean an actual _'this is our song playing_ ' kind of thing like we're a couple nonagenarians?”  
  
Phil laughed. “Don't you think it's one of those important relationship milestones?”  
  
“Never has been for me.”  
  
“People might ask about it.”  
  
“ _Literally_ only my grandparents have a song.”  
  
“We can make something up for them,” Phil said. “In case they ask.”  
  
Dan raised an eyebrow. “And why are you meeting my grandparents?”  
  
“Because I want to. Well, I don’t know, maybe.” Phil paused. “What are they like?”  
  
“Old,” Dan said. “Religious.”  
  
Phil nodded and opened his laptop on the sofa between them. It was impossible for him to focus on a single activity for longer than a few minutes. He seemed full of nervous energy, checking his phone and typing on his computer in between asking Dan questions and throwing cursory glances at the television with no regard to absorbing the plot.  
  
Normally Dan would find it annoying, but he seemed to have developed an endless tolerance where Phil was concerned. It was disconcerting.  
  
“What are you doing?” Dan asked.  
  
Phil ignored him. “Tell me about your mum.”  
  
“I don’t know.” Dan leaned over but couldn't make out which websites Phil had open. “She does massage therapy and waxes poetic about the anti-stress benefits whilst spending all of her time worrying about trivial little nothings.”  
  
“So then, she’s you basically.”  
  
“I don’t massage people.”  
  
Phil looked up. “Never?”  
  
“I don’t– why are you asking about my family?”  
  
“Because I didn’t even know where she worked,” Phil said. “We'd never pass a citizenship test at this rate.”  
  
“My friends aren't going to be quizzing you.” Dan laughed. “If you even meet them.”  
  
It was unsettling to think of introducing Phil to any of his friends. Even worse to picture him meeting his parents. Dan had a different personality to fit each friend so it was always humiliating when they met. He'd once bumped into a boy from his acting group at Reading Festival and the resulting five minute conversation was the most uncomfortable melding of worlds.  
  
“Well, hopefully it– what’s wrong?” Phil asked. “You've gone all pensive.”  
  
“Yeah, just thinking about my friends.”  
  
Phil nodded. “About which one you're going to tell next?”  
  
“Not really.” Dan pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Although I've certainly got some options. Look at this.”  
  
He scrolled down the messages he'd received since the previous day and held it up for Phil. There were over a dozen texts asking what he was doing and why he was in Manchester and who the hell Phil was.  
  
“You haven't responded to anyone?” Phil asked.  
  
“Uh, not so much.” Dan glanced down at the names. There were several people he hadn't even talked to in months. Guess he was suddenly interesting again. “That's normal for me though.”  
  
“Not with me.”  
  
“Yeah, well. Usually I’ll read a message and tell myself to respond but then eventually it gets too awkward and I just hope the person forgets they tried to speak to me.” Dan laughed. “You're the exception.”  
  
Phil smiled but didn’t look up from his computer. He kept the screen angled away.  
  
“Are you looking at porn?” Dan asked. “If you’re _actually_ going to look at porn while I’m sitting right here, then I think etiquette dictates you at least share the link with me.”  
  
“Don’t want to traumatize you this early on.”  
  
“Oh god. It’s Buffy roleplay, isn’t it?” Dan brought one hand up to cover his eyes. “If I look over there and someone’s being impaled with a stake then– actually, no, maybe I’ll just let you carry on.”  
  
Phil laughed and lifted his head. “How come you don't have any pictures of Erica? Did you delete them?”  
  
“Oh, shit.” Dan dropped his hand into his lap. “Are you facebook stalking me?”  
  
That was interesting. More of an ego boost than worrying.  
  
And possibly a tiny bit annoying that Phil was only just getting around to it. Dan had spent hours scrolling back through years of activity and photos the night Phil sent him a friend request.  
  
“I'm curious what she looks like,” Phil admitted. “Is that weird?”  
  
Dan shook his head and swiveled the laptop so that they could both see it. He pulled up an album and clicked through until he found the picture he remembered.  
  
The last one they'd taken together was months old. It was from Valentine’s Day. There were snowflakes caught in his hair and on Erica’s fuzzy green hat. They were standing outside of a cinema with cheesy grins plastered on their faces.  
  
“You had to go back more than that,” Dan said. “There.”  
  
Erica had brown hair and eyes similar to his own. She’d told him once that she liked how they were complementary. He hadn’t been able to resist correcting her. Complementary colors were ones that had strong contrasts. They just matched.  
  
“We look like siblings.” Dan wished that he could see the photo through Phil's eyes. He searched his expression for a hint of what he might be thinking. “Don’t we?”  
  
“No, you don’t,” Phil said. “You look good together.”  
  
Phil clicked on her name. It took them to her new profile picture where she was standing with her arms around the neck of a man with sandy hair and cheap sunglasses. He looked rugged and athletic. Chloe was definitely right that her new boyfriend was quite a change.  
  
He supposed Erica would say the same of him.  
  
Phil closed out of the window. He glanced over at Dan with a sheepish expression.  
  
“Sorry.”  
  
Dan shrugged. “It really doesn’t bother me.”  
  
“She's pretty,” Phil said. “You would've had beautiful monochromatic children.”  
  
Dan laughed. “That's a terrifying thought.”  
  
“What, children or genetic dominance?”  
  
“Children, definitely,” Dan said. “I'm not afraid of dominance.”  
  
“Good to know.” Phil grinned as he closed his laptop and settled back on the sofa. He motioned to the television. “I’m lost. Do you know what’s been happening here?”  
  
It was a film Dan had seen at least a hundred times.  
  
He shook his head. “Not a clue.”  


* * *

  
  
Dan glanced at the newest notification before shoving his phone over to where Phil was sitting at the foot of his bed. They were finalizing the list of questions they'd be asking each other during their YouTube video, but kept getting interrupted by his phone buzzing.  
  
“Another one,” Dan said. “Is this what it's like to be popular?”  
  
“Would I know?”  
  
“Fuck off.” Dan rolled his eyes. “Yes.”  
  
Phil pushed his laptop off his legs and picked up Dan's phone. He began scrolling through his messages with such familiar ease that Dan fought through the panic over what he might see and allowed him to continue. It already felt intimate to be sitting on Phil's bed together. He didn't want to be the one to shatter that comfort.  
  
“You should answer someone,” Phil said. “It'd be the perfect opportunity.”  
  
“What would I even say?”  
  
Phil shrugged. “Whatever you want.”  
  
“Okay, that’s easy enough,” Dan parodied his casual tone. “Go ahead and pick someone then.”  
  
“I don't know anyone.”  
  
Dan moved to sit beside Phil so that he could look over his shoulder. There was no one who popped out as the right choice. He was equally disinterested in coming out to all of them.  
  
“What's the point of this again?” Dan asked. “I mean, honestly, what's the point of opening up to people who probably couldn't give a fuck.”  
  
“They're your friends,” Phil said.  
  
“I guess.”  
  
It felt more like a list of people he’d spent time with at some point in his life, but Dan wasn’t sure how much he wanted to stress that point. It was a bit pathetic.  
  
“And there was something about a crisis of authenticity involved.”  
  
Dan couldn’t resist a smile at that. “Go on then. Give me a name and I’ll do it.”  
  
Phil shook his head. “I think you–”  
  
“The only reason I'm even remotely considering this,” Dan said, “is because it feels like a game this way.”  
  
“I'm not sure it– I mean, is that a good thing?”  
  
“Yeah.” Dan pushed the phone back into Phil's hand. “Because then if they take the piss or fuck off and stop talking to me like Chloe did, at least it's not like I sat here and decided I was going to trust them.”  
  
“I don’t know.” Phil looked uncertain. “I mean, yeah, I can see why that’d make it easier.”  
  
“So, like, anyone who asked who you were today.”  
  
“Okay,” Phil paused for a moment and then passed the phone back. “Sarah, I guess.”  
  
Dan read the message that she'd sent and laughed. “You only picked her because she called you cute.”  
  
“No, I just like the name,” Phil said. “It sounds friendly.”  
  
Sarah was more abrasive than friendly, but Dan decided to keep that to himself. He hadn't talked to her since she'd left for university over a month ago. She hadn't been at Chloe's ill-fated party, but she'd probably heard that he wasn't with Erica any longer. He decided to skip over that part as he began tapping out an answer.  
  
“How's this?” Dan asked. “I wrote that you're my boyfriend but we're keeping it quiet because I haven't told my parents that I'm bi yet.”  
  
“Yeah.” Phil nodded. “That’s good. And it doesn’t make me sound like an internet predator.”  
  
“It won't matter.” Dan hit send. “She'll tell everyone. Sexuality confessions have got to be fucking swank gossip. Like, this is top end shit I’m sending her.”  
  
“Does attention bother you?”  
  
There was a part of Dan that was more than a little satisfied with the fact that his friends were probably discussing him. He was used to floating on the fringes of cliques rather than being an important person in any group. It was a heady feeling to be a topic of conversation.  
  
There was no way to actually say that without sounding like a massive twat. Dan took refuge in sarcasm.  
  
“Yeah. I'm quite a shy boy,” he said. “I split my time between revision and prayer.”  
  
Phil laughed. “Why does that sound unbelievably dirty to me?”  
  
“Kinky,” Dan said. “Obviously because you’re a huge pervert. I bet that–”  
  
His phone buzzed and he glanced down in trepidation.  
  
“It's a fucking row of exclamation marks. What the hell is that supposed to mean?”  
  
“I'm sure they're nice ones.” Phil leaned closer to look over his shoulder as if he considered himself a connoisseur of punctuation and would be able to determine whether they were friendly or not. “She’s excited.”  
  
“Wait, she sent another message.”  
  
It was entirely possible they were exclamation marks of horror or disgust. Dan stood up before reading anything else. He clutched the phone at his side and paced up and down the cramped room before wandering into the hallway where there was more space. It was still only two long strides before he reached the staircase.  
  
Dan turned around to see Phil standing in the doorway with an amused expression.  
  
“Want me to read it for you?” he asked.  
  
“No.” Dan looked down at his phone. “Oh, fuck. Okay. She's happy for us both and says to tell you hello.”  
  
“That's–”  
  
“That's weird and _formal_ and not at all how she usually talks,” Dan interrupted. “This is fucking awkward.”  
  
Phil smiled. “But still.”  
  
“Still what?”  
  
“You did it.”  
  
Dan rolled his eyes as he walked back into Phil's room. He flopped onto his stomach on the bed. It was true. He'd come out to someone for the first time. Well, the first time besides Phil or Chloe, but neither of them counted really. It had to be an accomplishment of some sort.  
  
“I'm getting better at doing things that terrify me,” he said.  
  
Phil sat down beside him. The mattress dipped and Dan slid closer so that his arms rested against Phil's thigh. He wanted to put his head in his lap. Maybe Phil would run his fingers through his hair and he'd get a chance to see if it felt the same sober as it had last night. That would make this whole experience worth it.  
  
“What’s with the walking?”  
  
Dan looked up. “Sorry?”  
  
“You walk around like you're being hunted.” Phil tugged at Dan's hand until it unclenched. “And you make little fists while you do it.”  
  
Dan opened his mouth to make a snide remark, but stopped when Phil gave his hand a gentle squeeze before letting it go. It was unlikely that Phil was asking in order to find a spot of weakness. There was no reason to jump to the defensive.  
  
“You’re observant.”  
  
“If you mean that, like, you’re going to be locking your door tonight because I–”  
  
“No,” Dan said. “I like how you always– I don’t know, you notice things. It’s nice.”  
  
Phil bit his lip and looked away. “You don’t have to explain.”  
  
“There’s really nothing to say. It's an anxiety thing.” Dan closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to rest on Phil's knee. “Helps to keep moving, that's all.”  
  
“Okay,” Phil said slowly.  
  
Dan kept alert for squirming or any type of movement that might suggest Phil was uncomfortable, but they were both perfectly still. He took it as permission to stay where he was.  
  
“So that was pretty brave of me, right?” Dan asked.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Like, maybe I've earned a reward of some kind.”  
  
Phil laughed. “That depends on what you want.”  
  
_Your fingers. My hair. I don't ask for much in this world.  
  
_ Before Dan could come up with a response that fell on the side of playful rather than desperate, Phil stood up and his head was dropped unceremoniously back onto the bed.  
  
That was the opposite of a reward. Dan rolled onto his side and watched Phil search through a desk drawer.  
  
“Shit, where– no, wait, I've got it.” Phil pulled out a marker. “You ready?”  
  
“Is it time for arts and crafts already?” Dan sat up on the bed. “I forgot to bring my bead collection.”  
  
Phil laughed. “Seriously, unless we want to be filming past midnight, we need to get started.”  
  
“Yeah, sure.” Dan nodded. “But, like, what's the sharpie for then?”  


* * *

  
  
“You're not allowed to say that word anymore,” Phil said.  
  
Dan stared up at him. Their faces were too close to do much else.  
  
Insomnia had led Dan down several Wikipedia expeditions over the past few years. He'd explored the depths of the circadian rhythm and clicked on every source listed at the bottom of the page for anxiety. His mind latched onto most of this information in a way it never seemed to retain French lessons with the tutor that came to his house twice a week.  
  
The nature of distorted reality wasn't mysterious to him. When stress levels were high, a person was more likely to interpret neutral or positive situations as dangerous. It didn't matter whether the stress was good or bad.  
  
The human body, in all of its evolutionary brilliance, was complete shit like that. Which meant that when Dan finally got the chance to live out his actual wet dream of Phil's body pressing him down onto the floor, his reaction was to freeze in terror.  
  
“What?” he asked.  
  
“The most fun you've ever had?” Phil teased. “ _Fun_? Remember? Last night.”  
  
Dan forced out a laugh. “Right. No, I'd totally forgotten.”  
  
“I thought you were trying to wind me up.”  
  
Dan shook his head.  
  
He'd thought that being filmed would make Phil more hesitant to touch him. The opposite seemed to be true, as if the camera was an aphrodisiac that promoted flirtatious behavior. Phil hadn't hesitated to lean in close to whisper in his ear or gently cup his chin as he drew cat whiskers onto his face.  
  
It still hadn’t prepared Dan for being pinned to the ground. If he could convince his body that he wasn't about to be murdered, his heart rate might return to normal and he'd be able to come up with some witty retort.  
  
“I wasn't,” he choked out.  
  
Evidently not.  
  
Phil laughed again and pulled away. Dan struggled into a sitting position and adjusted his hair so it was back in place for when they filmed the final bit.  
  
After the camera was turned off and shut away in its case, they watched the video together and Phil muttered under his breath about which parts he wanted to cut out of the final version. He jotted notes along the way about how to order the questions and when to fit in their favorite bits of banter.  
  
They'd filmed over an hour of raw footage. Dan counted each time Phil touched him and wondered how many would be in the final cut.  
  
“Can I have a copy of this?” he asked.  
  
“Yeah, I'll get you the full version.” Phil smiled as the video reached the final minute. “It's good, right?”  
  
Dan nodded. He stared transfixed at Phil’s laptop and watched himself get tackled to the floor. The angle didn't show his face. It was probably to his benefit that a recording of that didn't exist.  
  
It was only a few seconds before they were sitting up again, faces bright from laughter, fidgeting with their hair in an attempt to avoid eye contact. It'd felt like longer in the moment.  
  
“Are you keeping that bit in?” Dan asked.  
  
“God, yes.” Phil laughed. “That's the best part. Unless you want me to cut it?”  
  
Dan imagined his friends in turn and what their reactions might be when they saw Phil's little smirk before shoving him onto the floor. It'd lend credence to their story at least. It would be harder to convince people they _weren’t_ together if they watched it.  
  
He shook his head. “No, go ahead. Leave it.”


	6. Chapter 6

By the time Phil slid the second Buffy disc into his DVD player, Dan was starting to get concerned.  
  
There were two problems that he could see. The first was that maybe Phil wasn't kidding when he suggested watching the entire series straight through the night. They'd already worked their way through a good portion of the first season and Dan was having trouble maintaining even baseline enthusiasm. This was minor in comparison to his second concern, which was that it seemed to be getting harder for Phil to keep his eyes open.  
  
The next day would bring an end to Dan’s visit. Morning was edging closer by the second.  
  
And Phil still hadn't kissed him.  
  
Dan hadn't even realized how much he'd been expecting it until it just didn't happen. They finished watching the video footage and turned to face each other, unbearably close as they hovered above the laptop, but then Phil turned to leave the room. Later on in the evening, Dan moved closer on the sofa than necessary so they could share a blanket, but Phil immediately pulled away to the other end. It was discouraging. Mostly it was _confusing_ , especially after all of the playful touching they'd filmed.  
  
As much as Dan wanted to be the type of person to just go for it, his confidence was slipping away. Maybe Phil really didn't want anything more than flirty banter. Dan had never seen how he interacted with his other friends. It was possible that Phil was like this with everyone and Dan had deluded himself into thinking it meant more than it did.  
  
It was a depressing thought.  
  
Dan tried to focus back on the screen. He stifled a yawn and Phil gave him a look between nervous and offended.  
  
“Sorry,” Dan said. “Getting tired.”  
  
“It's a lot better in later episodes.”  
  
“So you've said.”  
  
“If you'd just let me put on season four then _–_ ”  
  
“No,” Dan said. “I have to watch things in order.”  
  
Phil sighed. “It's like I'm introducing you to my family, but you're not getting along.”  
  
On the screen, Angel was standing in front of Buffy's bedroom window and staring at her with burning intensity. He looked particularly dark and brooding as he leaned in for a kiss. Fucking showoff.  
  
“Which one of them would be your mum?” Dan asked.  
  
“Not sure which answer would be more disturbing.”  
  
Dan smiled as Angel's face contorted into its vampire state and Buffy screamed in horror. It was satisfying to see him so thoroughly rejected. No one deserved kisses if Dan wasn't getting any, but especially not that steroid junkie with his leather jacket and tortured pout.  
  
“You should probably pick the one you haven't fantasized about fucking into oblivion,” Dan answered.  
  
Phil laughed. “Still don't know the answer in that case.”  
  
“Tell me you're joking,” Dan said. “Oh god. Lie to me if it’s necessary. Do you _really_ go for the brooding, oh-I'm-so-tortured-look-at-my-billowing-cape bullshit?”  
  
“Fuck off,” Phil said. “You told me your ultimate celebrity crush was Brian Molko.”  
  
“That's different.”  
  
“How?”  
  
“He isn't muscular,” Dan said. “If you're going to be an emo fuck, at least have the decency to be scrawny and pathetic about it.”  
  
“Was that a compliment?” Phil held up a hand before Dan could respond. “Hold on, this part is really good.”  
  
Dan turned his attention back to the television with a bit of effort and tried to keep quiet for the remainder of the episode.  
  
Phil moved farther away so that he could curl up on the arm of the sofa, but then stretched his legs out so his feet were in Dan's lap. He didn't pull away even when Dan rested an arm on his calf. It might have been because he was too tired to bother moving, but Dan still felt a surge of renewed hope.  
  
If Dan allowed himself to think about it from a logical perspective, he could see that there were a number of factors that might stop Phil from making a move. Dan was younger than him. He'd traveled several hours to meet him and was spending the night alone in an unfamiliar area. He'd made no secret of the fact that the only friend he'd told thought it was a dangerous idea.  
  
Maybe it wasn’t hopeless. Maybe Phil was just waiting for Dan to give an indication that he was interested, something unambiguous and confident.  
  
Dan allowed one hand to slide down Phil's leg in a timid stroke. Boldness wasn't really a strong point of his when physical contact was involved.  
  
The episode came to an end. Neither of them moved to play the next one.  
  
“What's the latest we’ve ever stayed up together?” Phil asked.  
  
“Five o'clock,” Dan answered without missing a beat as if he'd expected the question. It'd been one of the first nights they'd talked on Skype. He wasn't likely to forget it. “Thinking we can beat our record?”  
  
Phil sat up and shook his head. “I'm not going to last much longer. I've been trying because, you know, you're leaving tomorrow.”  
  
Dan nodded in agreement even though it was going to be hard for him to sleep at all. He felt wound up with useless energy.  
  
“Going to bed then?” Phil asked. He tossed the remote between his hands as he stood up. “Stay up if you want.”  
  
“I'm tired too,” Dan lied. “Turn it off.”  
  
They hugged good night at the bottom of the staircase, holding on for several seconds longer than they had at the train station. Dan watched Phil walk up to his room before turning away in defeat.  
  
The more he wanted something, the more impossible it seemed.  


* * *

  
Dan woke up covered in sweat with his heart racing.  
  
A few rays of early morning light filtered in through the window. It'd only been a couple hours since he'd managed to fall asleep, but the sun was beginning to rise.  
  
He sat up and pressed both hands down onto the bed in the space between his knees. The space that Phil had just been occupying in his dream. His hands clenched at the sheets as he blinked his way out of confusion and returned to reality.  
  
It'd been one of those illogical dreams that felt real while making no sense. An unsettling mixture of fantasy and nightmare.  
  
The dream started where he had ended the night with Phil, sharing a blanket on the sofa. They were talking but Dan couldn't make out the conversation. There were sounds like ocean waves instead of words as the sofa shrank until there was no space between them. It grew smaller and smaller until it was the size of a lounge chair and Phil was lying between Dan's legs. Then the dream shifted so they weren’t in the lounge anymore. They were outside on the balcony at Chloe's house and Dan had a vague sense that this shouldn’t be happening, an ominous feeling that something was wrong, but Phil kissed him and he forgot his concerns as a hot tongue slipped inside his mouth.  
  
The chair was more comfortable in his dream than it'd been the night he'd slept on it. There was enough room for Phil to start pulling off their clothes and sliding a hand down his stomach into the waistband of Dan's pants.  
  
It had been at that moment, the exact second that Phil wrapped his fingers around Dan’s aching cock, that a sound interrupted their activity. It wasn't the reassuring whisper of waves hitting the shore, but the startling screech of an owl cry. Dan looked around in panic for the source only to see that it was coming from Phil's open mouth above him.  
  
That’s when Dan woke up.  
  
His mind was such a fucking tease. Dan heaved a sigh as he tried to get his labored breathing back under control. Hadn't his brain ever heard of wish fulfillment?  
  
Dan struggled his way out of the sheets tangled around his legs. Even if the dream had been more disturbing than erotic, it'd still left him hard and practically gagging to get a hand around his cock. While he was sure that Phil's brother was as kind and understanding as the rest of the Lester clan, he still probably wouldn't be thrilled to have a stranger masturbating in his bed.  
  
The bathroom was cold and too bright when he flicked the light switch on. Dan squinted and didn't waste time letting his eyes adjust before fumbling his way into the shower.  
  
The water had barely warmed up from tepid before Dan was ducking under it. He wrapped a palm around his cock and swallowed to hold back any noise. The shower held many advantages when it came to inconspicuous wanking at a friend’s house, but the acoustics weren't one of them. Phil was doubtless still asleep, but Dan wasn't about to take the chance of him hearing moans reverberating throughout the house.  
  
Dan stroked himself in a steady rhythm with the goal of bringing himself off as quickly as possible. He looked down at the row of bottles on the ledge to see what type of soap was available to help things along.  
  
Sitting there, tucked between two different brands of shampoo as if it were any other household toiletry, was the same bottle of lube that he'd seen in the cabinet less than twenty-four hours ago. Dan's hand stopped mid-stroke.  
  
It could be a joke. Phil enjoyed teasing him, but leaving this for Dan to discover as a reminder of their conversation really didn't seem his style of humor. It was more likely that he just hadn’t put it back after using it, the same way he left doors open and forgot about mugs of coffee halfway through drinking them.  
  
Dan picked it up and squirted a small amount onto his fingers. It was smooth. Less sticky than he'd imagined it to be. He'd never used it himself, never had a reason to bother when there were hundreds of cheaper and more subtle options available. He'd assumed Phil bought it for sex rather than solo activities.  
  
There hadn't been anyone else here in the past day.  
  
Dan turned so that the stream of water was hitting his back and ran a hand over his cock. The lube felt slippery and cool against his skin. He closed his eyes as his hand continued moving down. One curious finger circled behind his balls.  
  
“Jesus. _Ohh–_ ” Dan's eyes popped back open. He held back a whimper as his finger continued its tentative rotation.  
  
Phil was right. It felt electric now that he was already aroused. Tingles were shooting down his thighs and pulsing in his cock. Dan took a breath and slid the finger inside himself. It went in easily, much smoother than he remembered the first time going. He wasn't sure if it was the lube or because he was more relaxed, but there was only a tiny stretch, a subtle soreness that he only noticed because he was expecting it.  
  
Dan kept his other hand wrapped around his cock, but only gave it a few light tugs, trying to keep his pace slow. He fought back the instinct to pull his finger out and push back in. Instead he held still until the initial discomfort passed and began curling and pressing in different spots.  
  
It took a few tries. It felt foreign and awkward at first, an intrusion more like a tickle than anything else. He crooked his finger up at a different angle and felt all breath leave his body.  
  
“Oh _god_.”  
  
Dan let his head fall back. The water washed the hair out of his eyes and hopefully drowned out the few quiet noises he couldn't bite back. It became clear in seconds that trying this out in the shower was a terrible idea. His knees went weak with every rhythmic throb of pleasure. Standing wasn't going to be an option for much longer.  
  
This was more intense than anything Dan had ever felt. He took his hand off his cock and braced his forearm against the wall.  
  
He wanted to move his hand and start properly fucking himself now, but remembered Phil's instructions and stopped. He kept a steady pressure against his prostate, curling and stroking his finger against it, and was rewarded with a near-constant thrum of pleasure without any of the uncomfortable ache he remembered.  
  
Dan looked down to watch his cock, already swollen and heavy, twitching each time his finger pressed against that spot. He normally went soft after a few minutes without any direct physical contact, but he was even harder than when he’d woken up. His cock jerked forward and spasmed, leaving a wet trail of pre-come on his stomach.  
  
It was another minute before his trembling legs finally buckled and he slid down to his knees on the shower floor, gasping into the steam and spreading his thighs as much as the cramped space would allow. He couldn't hold back any more, pulling at his cock in rough, short bursts as he began fucking himself in earnest. Screw it. The residual ache would be worth this.  
  
Dan was sure that he wouldn't last long, but the build-up was a slow burning process. He teetered on the brink for several minutes, hips rolling down onto his hand instinctively and keeping a steady rhythm. It was unlike anything he'd felt before. He didn't have words to capture the experience or catalog what he was feeling. His head fell forward and he gave in to it completely, allowing the overwhelming sensation to take over.  
  
It wasn't a quick release when he started to come. His mouth dropped open with shuddering gasps as the intensity of his orgasm left his vision dark around the edges. Tingles radiated through him, starting with his cock and spreading out in waves throughout his whole body. He felt his finger being squeezed as he went tense. His cock convulsed in his hand and come shot across the shower floor in rapid bursts.  
  
“Fuck,” Dan whimpered.  
  
His knees ached and the water was losing heat, but he waited until his heartbeat settled back into its normal pattern before he attempted to stand and finish showering. The last thing he needed was to pass out and have Phil find him later.  
  
The bottle of lube had fallen to the floor. Dan picked it up with shaking fingers and put it back where he'd found it. He was definitely buying some of that when he got home.  


* * *

  
Dan worked his way through four mugs of coffee before Phil came downstairs.  
  
Normally he was able to fall back to sleep no matter what the hour or reason for waking, but he was too wired. It felt like he'd had this earth-shattering experience and now he couldn't tell anyone. He curled up on the sofa and scrolled through the contacts on his phone, half-wishing he could text one of them about it.  
  
The only friend he felt comfortable talking to about sex was Phil. That sure as hell wasn’t happening.  
  
“Good morning.” Phil walked into the room and stood in the doorway to stretch.  
  
Dan gaped at him. He had his glasses on and was still scruffy and unshaven. His pajamas were too big and the collar of his shirt too wide. It hung off one shoulder as he shuffled into the room. Dan held up his phone and took a picture of him before he could protest.  
  
“Not fair,” Phil grumbled.  
  
“Yeah, it is.” Dan smiled down at his phone. “If we were together, this is the sort of thing I'd find really cute. I'd call you adorable and talk you out of shaving.”  
  
Phil sat down and ran a hand over his chin. “You think I'm cute when I don’t shave?”  
  
“God, no. You disgust me.” Dan held up his phone and snapped another photo as Phil yawned. “But if I didn't have sleepy morning pictures, it'd completely blow our cover.”  
  
“How come I don't get any? You got up early again.”  
  
“Yeah, I don't know. Just can't seem to sleep in.”  
  
“I thought you could sleep anywhere.”  
  
“Guess I was wrong,” Dan said. “I just had a thought. You know what'd make this photoshoot more believable?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“You normally don't sleep in a shirt, right?”  
  
Phil rolled his eyes and stood up. “I can't handle you before coffee.”  
  
“It's all right,” Dan said as he watched him walk out of the lounge. “I'm here until the afternoon. You can handle me whenever you like.”  
  
“That so?” Phil laughed and then paused in the doorway with a frown. “I wish you weren't leaving.”  
  
“It's not _–_ yeah, I know. It fucking sucks.”  
  
“We’ve still got a few hours,” Phil said. “Let’s not waste them.”  


* * *

  
Phil made breakfast again, but this time Dan sat cross-legged on the counter to watch him cook and rated each dish on a ten-point scale.  
  
“How do you not like scrambled eggs?” he asked.  
  
“What's to like?” Phil wrinkled his nose as he pushed them around the pan with a spatula. “It's like warm slime.”  
  
“Gross.”  
  
“I don't like french toast either.” Phil looked up at him. “Or cheese.”  
  
“How am I just learning this now?” Dan asked. “Is there anything else I should know about you?”  
  
“I don't know.” Phil shrugged. “My grandparents are related.”  
  
“Okay, right.” Dan paused with a forkful of potato suspended in midair. “Oh, god. You're not joking, are you?”  
  
Phil laughed. “I'm really not.”  
  
The plan had been to take the bus to Manchester early in the morning and spend another day in the city before Dan had to catch his train home. Neither of them actually said they'd changed their mind, but they didn't end up leaving until the last moment. It was easier to stay in Phil's house and pretend their visit never had to end.  
  
When they finally made it to the train station, it was quieter than it'd been on the day that Dan arrived. The somber atmosphere reflected his mood.  
  
“Skype tonight?” Dan asked.  
  
“Of course.” Phil nodded. “And every other night until Halloween. It won’t be long.”  
  
Dan tried to smile as he wrapped his arms around Phil's neck for one last hug. It was bittersweet, a reminder of everything he'd be missing. Phil squeezed back, warm and tight, before pulling away.  
  
Their faces lingered close even after they stopped touching. Dan knew this was his last chance. He licked his lips and collected every scrap of courage that he possessed. His hand moved to the back of Phil's neck and he leaned in so their noses almost bumped together.  
  
Phil inhaled a sharp breath and took a step back. He stared at Dan in shock and then looked down at the ground.  
  
“Your train's going to leave,” he said.  
  
“Right.” Dan turned away, humiliated and shaken by the polite rejection. He dropped his hand back to his side. “Sorry.”  
  
Dan's face was warm as he made his way onto the train and collapsed into his seat just as it started moving. He’d really convinced himself that Phil might feel the same way. Now every signal he’d been misreading over the past few days – hell, the past few _weeks_ – seemed ambiguous at best. Phil was just his friend. A friend who was doing him a favor by pretending to be more than that.  
  
This had all been an idiotic plan. Dan stared out the window and blinked away tears of frustration.


	7. Chapter 7

Dan began reconsidering all of his life choices within minutes of Phil muttering a hurried _“be right back”_ and slipping away into the crowd.  
  
There had to be something he'd done horribly wrong, some tiny butterfly effect moment that had led him to his current plight of being abandoned in a mass of people who reeked of stale cigarette smoke. It wasn’t long before he was squashed between a girl named Gemma who had introduced herself by username – some play off the word _gemstone_ that Dan didn't care enough to commit to memory – and her friend, Tyler, who didn't make YouTube videos and used the phrase “a bit weird” to describe his opinion on them.  
  
“Are you a dog?” Tyler asked.  
  
“Bear,” Dan answered.  
  
He’d never been so grateful to be in costume, even if it was a hasty choice slipped over his regular clothes and he looked a bit ridiculous. At least it put an extra layer between himself and people who hadn’t managed to grasp the concept of personal space. It was like armor. Soft, fuzzy armor.  
  
“You look more like a puppy.” Gemma stroked her hand down his sleeve. “One of those cute, scrappy ones.”  
  
“No, it's definitely a bear. The angry, grizzly type.” Dan cringed away from her hand. “How come you two didn't dress up?”  
  
Tyler laughed. “Gems wouldn't go for it.”  
  
“Too many cameras,” she said. “I don't want to look stupid in the background of a hundred videos.”  
  
“Right.”  
  
“Are you looking for someone?” Tyler asked.  
  
Dan stopped scanning the crowd over their shoulders and dropped his gaze to the ground. His plan had shifted several times over the past week, but it had never been to spend the entire day glued to Phil's side like a pathetic groupie.  
  
On the train ride after leaving Phil's house, he was certain the shame was too much and he'd never be able to speak to him again. That lasted all of twenty minutes. His resolve broke when Phil tweeted him a hesitant joke and he thought that _maybe_ he would survive the humiliation and it would just become another addition to the cringeworthy memories that haunted him while he was trying to fall asleep at night.  
  
His second plan was to feign indifference. He was intent not to be the first one to text and attempted to stay off Skype for a few days. It was harder than he expected. Phil spent the week in Ireland filming collab videos and every picture he saw of him standing with his arms around another person made Dan's stomach turn.  
  
It awoke the latent attention seeking zone in Dan's brain and he abandoned his detachment in favor of sending Phil an atypical number of enthusiastic and supportive text messages about how excited he was to see the videos he made there.  
  
This brought Dan to his current strategy, which was to appear carefree and serene, as if the near-kiss had never happened.  
  
“Not really,” Dan said. “I came with a friend and I don't want to lose him, you know?”  
  
“Who is it?” Gemma asked.  
  
“Phil, um, he makes videos too. His–”  
  
“AmazingPhil?”  
  
Dan nodded. “Yeah, that.”  
  
“He's over there. I've been meaning to say hello all night.” Gemma pointed to where Phil's purple shirt and cat ears stood out amongst the people assembled in the crowded park. He was talking to a man wearing devil horns and holding a red mask in his clenched fists. “Look at that. I guess they're getting cozy again.”  
  
“Are they– what?”  
  
“Who?” Tyler asked. “I never know who the hell you're talking about.”  
  
Gemma nudged Dan with her elbow. “Do _you_ know who that is?”  
  
Dan felt his chest tighten. “No, but I don't know most people here.”  
  
“That's Josh,” she said in a lowered voice.  
  
It took a moment before the name registered. Phil had only mentioned it once and Dan had been more interested in hearing about his experience coming out than asking questions about the boy he'd been dating at the time. It had seemed inconsequential, a figment from Phil's past that had no bearing on today.  
  
Dan stared at the man standing opposite Phil across the park. It’d grown dark and the sparse lamp posts were the only light in the area so he couldn't quite make out their expressions from the distance, but nothing about their body language suggested friendliness. Josh had his arms crossed and shook his head, staring down at the grass while Phil spoke to him with emphatic hand gestures. It looked like he might be pleading.  
  
“And who the hell is Josh?” Tyler asked. “You're always talking like everything's a secret.”  
  
Gemma smiled like that pleased her. “He’s a friend of mine. You’ve never met him.”  
  
“So he’s, like, what?” Dan turned around. It felt intrusive to watch Phil's conversation even if he couldn't make out the words. “Phil’s ex-boyfriend?”  
  
Gemma's eyes widened like he'd said something obscene.  
  
“Well, no one really knows.” She shrugged. “He might've been. There were rumors.”  
  
“Oh, I bet it's true,” Tyler said. “Look how close they're standing.”  
  
“We're standing closer than they are,” Dan said. “It means fuck all.”  
  
Tyler laughed. “Shit, mate. I didn't know it was like that.”  
  
“He's just teasing,” Gemma said with a nervous laugh before Dan could respond. “Shut up, Tyler. He’s coming over here.”  
  
Dan turned to see Phil walking their way.  
  
It probably didn't matter how his conversation with Josh had gone. One afternoon of being charming couldn’t fix the damage he'd done at the train station. Dan swallowed around the lump in his throat and tried to smile. He steeled himself as Phil reached them and touched his elbow with an apprehensive expression.  
  
“Hey,” Phil said. “Sorry to interrupt. Um, Dan, can we talk a minute?”  
  
Dan caught Gemma and Tyler exchanging a glance out of the corner of his eye. He didn't bother saying goodbye before nodding and walking resolutely in the direction of a fountain on the edge of the park. There was no one nearby and hopefully the water would muffle their words.  
  
Phil caught up with him just as he sat down on the edge.  
  
“Sorry, I was a bit rude,” Dan said. “Did you know them?”  
  
“I've talked to Gems before. She's nice enough.” Phil sat down beside him. “Never met that guy though.”  
  
“His name is Tyler and he thinks YouTube is a bit weird.”  
  
Phil laughed. “Was he that bad?”  
  
“If the color beige turned sentient and learned how to speak,” Dan said, “it would become Tyler.”  
  
“I didn't mean to just take off like that.”  
  
“You saw someone you knew?” Dan asked.  
  
Dan had spent an agonizing week dreading this exact moment. It was almost a relief that it’d finally arrived.  
  
“Something like that.” Phil stared down into the water. “I sort of fucked things up and I feel like a complete dick right now so, um, I'm really sorry.”  
  
“It's okay.”  
  
Phil looked up. “You don't even know why I'm apologizing. At least give me a chance to work up the nerve to explain what happened before you forgive me.”  
  
“You were just talking to your ex-boyfriend.”  
  
Phil raised an eyebrow.  
  
“So, like, I get it,” Dan said. “You want to call things off, right? Not that– I mean, however you want to describe it.”  
  
“How did– what the hell?” Phil fell back onto his elbows and let out a soft laugh. It was a quiet, bitter sound that was all wrong coming from him. “This is such a weird night. How did you even know what Joshua looks like?”  
  
“Gemma mentioned his name.” Dan shrugged. “I don't know. I remembered you talking about him. Things looked a little intense.”  
  
“If you think–”  
  
“You don't have to–”  
  
“ _Dan_. Listen, please.” Phil sat up and placed a hand over Dan's wrist. “Do you think we're getting back together? He _hates_ me. We were arguing. That's all.”  
  
Dan looked down at their hands pressed together against the wet stone. It took all of his strength not to pull away. His throat felt like it was closing up.  
  
“I don't want to call anything off,” Phil continued. “You haven't even told your parents and– I mean, where is this coming from?”  
  
Dan shook his head. It was no use trying to be detached and casual. Nothing was going to feel normal again until he forced Phil to admit it. “I was so out of line last week.”  
  
“Last week?”  
  
“At the train station.”  
  
Phil stared at him. “Do you mean the– when you– are you still thinking about that?”  
  
“You've been so nice to me, like, I can't–” Dan's voice broke. He held a hand to his mouth and paused for a moment, eyes darting around to make sure no one was close enough to overhear. “I don't know what the fuck I was thinking.”  
  
He turned his head to the side. It was probably dark enough that Phil wouldn't see the tears in his eyes but he didn't want to take any chances. He looked disgusting when he cried.  
  
“We’ve talked every night the past week,” Phil began slowly, “and we've been together all day. Why are you just bringing this up now?”  
  
“You didn't bring it up and so I thought–”  
  
“I thought _you_ didn't want to talk about it.”  
  
“Well, I didn't.” Dan wiped his cheeks and took a breath. “I'm fucking useless at playing it cool though.”  
  
“Is that what you were doing?” Phil sounded amused as he wrapped his arms around Dan to pull him into a hug. “I thought you were just nervous about meeting people or, like, not having much fun today.”  
  
Dan shuffled closer and pressed his face against Phil's neck. “So, you're not mad then?”  
  
It still felt too good to be true. There was an ominous feeling swirling in Dan's stomach, reminding him that Phil had brought him over to this secluded area of the park to talk about _something_. If he wasn't about to explain that his ex-boyfriend had decided to give it another shot, there was still another problem waiting to throw him off balance.  
  
“You didn't do anything wrong,” Phil said. “Jesus, Dan, you've been so honest with me.”  
  
“I've _tried_ but–”  
  
“I know you don't want me.”  
  
Phil pulled out of their hug and paused as if waiting for Dan to confirm or refute his claim. Dan stared at him in stunned silence.  
  
“No, Dan, it's fine.” Phil let out a nervous laugh and nodded. “I get it. You want _someone_ and I'm here and it's convenient and that's– okay, but you have to understand how much of a surprise it was and we were– I mean, there were _people_ around and your train was about to leave and I didn't have time to sort through everything in my head. If you'd tried to kiss me back at the house, I would've had a completely different reaction.”  
  
Dan tried to take in this barrage of new information. The most shocking bit wasn't even that Phil thought Dan was trying to kiss him because it was convenient. It was that if he hadn't been an idiot and waited until the last moment, it might have actually worked out.  
  
“Well,” Dan said. “I have excellent timing, don't I?”  
  
“What'd you think? That I'm disgusted by you or that–”  
  
“You say that like it's _unlikely_ or something,” Dan said. “Would you even tell me if I crossed a line?”  
  
Phil laughed and rolled his eyes. “Yes.”  
  
“We haven't known each other that long, not _really_ and so I keep thinking you're going to get sick of me and that's awful.” Dan looked down at the fountain and traced a crack in the stone with his finger. “But then other times I get worried that you're too fucking nice and you're putting up with me so as not to hurt my feelings. That might actually be worse.”  
  
“Why would I spend every free minute I've got talking to you?”  
  
Dan shrugged. He never claimed his worries were based on logic.  
  
“You know what I've been thinking all day?” Phil asked. “I've been waiting for this night for months now, like, meeting all these other youtubers and talking to people about collaborations and now I don't even care about it anymore. The best part of today was just getting to see you again.”  
  
“It's the same for me,” Dan said.  
  
“You told me that you'd never had a friend who put you above everyone else, but there's no one else I think about as much as you.” Phil leaned back and stared up at the sky as he laughed. “And now I've ventured into creepy territory. I didn't mean that how it came out.”  
  
Dan shook his head. It was the perfect moment to tell him the truth about how he felt. As much bravery as it took to lean in for a kiss at the train station, it was going to take even more now that the memory of Phil’s rejection was burned into his mind. He tried to summon the strength to say the words, to explain it was more than the desire to kiss a guy for the first time.  
  
“So, um, there really was something I needed to say,” Phil said. “If we're good?”  
  
Dan smiled at the uncertainty in his voice. It was reassuring. “We’re good. Sorry.”  
  
Phil laughed. “I've enjoyed the procrastination actually.”  
  
“What's wrong?”  
  
“Okay, so you know how I had that friend who was going to let us stay with him tonight?” Phil twisted his hands in his lap and gave Dan an apologetic smile. “Turns out he's really good friends with Joshua these days. As in, like, I got the distinct impression they might be– anyway, we've been disinvited.”  
  
Dan waited for him to continue, but it seemed Phil was finished.  
  
“Is that it?” Dan asked. “You fucking terrified me.”  
  
“You're not upset?”  
  
“We're, like, an hour from my house by bus. Even if–”  
  
“I mean, don’t worry. I’ll figure something out.” Phil sighed and stood up to motion to the crowd of people. It’d thinned slightly since they'd sat down. Some people were leaving to continue the party in a new location. “I know a bunch of people here. I'm sure if I ask around, I don't know, someone will let us crash.”  
  
“I might have another option.”  
  
“Sure.” Phil held his hands out. “You've got friends in London?”  
  
“I guess we’ll see if that’s still true.”  
  
It was a risk, but at least this was one Dan could actually manage. He bit his lip and pulled his phone out of his pocket. It rang twice before connecting.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
“Happy Halloween,” Dan said. “Is this Mother Teresa of Cal-fucking-cutta?”  
  
Chloe laughed. “You've got her.”  
  
“I heard you sometimes took people in from the cold for a night.”  


* * *

  
Chloe opened the door before Dan had a chance to knock. He stared for a moment, greeting on his lips, before bursting out in laughter.  
  
“Shut up.” Chloe pulled her robe tighter and ushered them inside. “I haven't had time to get my makeup off. You called right as I was getting home.”  
  
Dan stepped closer to get a better look at the painted wrinkles and age spots. They matched the grey wig she still had on her head.  
  
“What are you exactly? This is ten times better than last year's sexy kitten.”  
  
“It was a _theme_ party,” Chloe explained in a desperate voice.  
  
“What was the theme?” Phil asked.  
  
Chloe turned as if noticing him for the first time. “It was _The Future Is Terrifying_. There was one guy dressed in nothing but swim trunks. Some statement about global warming.” Chloe paused as she reached to undo the clasp at the back of her head. “He won the costume contest. Fucking _swim trunks_. I spent over an hour going through my grandmother's wardrobe.”  
  
Dan gaped as she pulled off the wig and dark brown hair spilled onto her shoulders.  
  
“That's the scariest thing I've seen all night,” he said. “I guess the one color you haven't tried?”  
  
Chloe stalked down the hallway. “Do you have any idea how expensive hair dye is?”  
  
“I do actually,” Dan said. “You dyed my fringe purple once, remember?”  
  
“Why haven’t I seen pictures of that?” Phil asked. “You’re holding out on me.”  
  
“Don’t worry,” Chloe called over her shoulder. “We’ll talk in the morning. I’ve got loads to show you.”  
  
Phil smiled as they followed her through another doorway into a small lounge. “I know what you mean though. I kept mine natural most of the time I was at uni too.”  
  
“And it's not just the cost. I mean, the upkeep and time it takes. Like, who gives a _fuck_. I barely have time to shower most days.” Chloe punctuated her words by throwing pillows onto the floor as she pulled the futon out into the center of the room and set it up. “A few of my professors didn't seem too keen on the colors anyway.”  
  
Dan folded his arms. “So you're a real adult now? I liked the wig better.”  
  
“I think it looks nice like this,” Phil said. “I saw pictures of when it was purple and another when it was green, but this suits you too.”  
  
“Thanks.” Chloe motioned to the futon. “You're okay sharing, right?”  
  
Phil looked momentarily panicked. “Of course.”  
  
“Yeah, sure.” Dan nodded.  
  
“Okay.” Chloe glanced between them. “I'll go steal some blankets from my flatmates. They're out for the night anyway.”  
  
Dan stared down at the tiny mattress while she was gone. It looked like it was barely large enough to fit one of them.  
  
“So,” he said. “Cozy, isn't it?”  
  
Phil laughed. “Is there a specific side that you want? Is there enough room for there to be sides?”  
  
“Better than patio furniture.”  
  
“Are you sure? Maybe we should check if that's an option.”  
  
Chloe walked back into the room and dropped a large duvet onto a chair. It appeared they would be sharing that as well.  
  
“Here you go.” Chloe handed each of them what looked like damp napkins.  
  
“Are these moist towelettes?” Dan asked. “Is this some weird hostess etiquette you picked up or should–”  
  
“It's make up remover. Total miracle worker too.” Chloe pointed to where they still had marker drawn on their faces. “Unless you want to sleep like that.”  
  
“Thanks,” Phil said with a bright smile. “That's so nice of you.”  
  
“Sure.” Chloe gave him a tentative smile in return as she backed out of the room. “I'm going to jump in the shower before going to bed. You both all right?”  
  
They nodded and then turned to face each other after she’d closed the door.  
  
“I don't suppose it'd look that realistic if we waited for her to get out and took turns changing in the bathroom, would it?” Phil asked.  
  
“Probably not.”  
  
Phil pulled out the pair of pajama bottoms that he had stashed in his bag. “Don’t turn around?”  
  
Dan nodded and looked away, heart racing as he tugged his own shirt over his head and stripped to his boxers. There was the distinct sound of clothes hitting the floor behind him. It made it hard to breathe.  


* * *

  
The mattress was even smaller than it looked.  
  
Dan was only in boxers and a t-shirt, but that was modest compared to Phil. In some diabolical plan to give Dan heart failure while he was still in his teens, Phil hadn't bothered to pack a shirt for sleep.  
  
The room was freezing and the extra warmth under the shared blanket was nice, but every movement brought more skin contact and Dan already had no fucking clue how he was going to fall asleep.  
  
“You're awfully fidgety.”  
  
Dan turned to glare at him and they nearly bumped foreheads. “Is there extra room on that side?”  
  
“I'm right up against the wall.”  
  
Dan shuffled to the edge but he was still pressed against the full length of Phil's body. “I'll fall off if I move anymore.”  
  
“Then don't.” Phil laughed. “We should just give in and cuddle.”  
  
“You think this is funny.”  
  
“Well, yeah, it's sort of hilarious.”  
  
_Fuck it._ Dan shifted so that he was tucked against Phil's chest and put an arm over his waist. He slid one leg closer and felt Phil's hand graze his inner thigh. He smiled when Phil yanked it away.  
  
“Still funny?” Dan asked.  
  
“Not so much.”  
  
“Want me to move back?”  
  
Phil shook his head and squirmed. “I'm fine.”  
  
Dan adjusted his pillow and rested his head in the nook of Phil's shoulder. It really was more comfortable being snug against him than trying not to touch. It didn’t have to be a big deal. The futon was tiny. There was no point fighting the laws of physics.  
  
“This is nice actually,” Phil said. “Even if your hands are freezing.”  
  
“Are they?” Dan pressed one against the small of Phil's back and the other to his stomach. He laughed when Phil shuddered. “Your skin is really warm. Like my own personal heater.”  
  
“That your way of calling me hot?”  
  
“Maybe.”  
  
“Well, stop it.” Phil leaned closer so their faces were almost touching and lowered his voice. “We're guests, remember?”  
  
“Can I ask you something serious then?” Dan moved his hands away but stayed tucked against Phil’s body. “Now that our imminent homelessness isn't going to distract you.”  
  
“Go for it.”  
  
“What you said earlier.” Dan forced himself to meet Phil's eyes. “If we hadn't been at the train station.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“If we'd been at your house and– well, you said you might've had a different reaction.”  
  
“Maybe, I don't know.” Phil sighed and shut his eyes even though the room was already dim. “It seems like a bad idea on the offset, you know? But I mean, the more I thought about it– like, okay, you feel confused sometimes and doubt yourself and I guess you feel like you aren't sure whether or not you'd really like being with another guy since you haven't got that experience, right?”  
  
“Yeah,” Dan said. “That wasn't why I wanted to kiss you though.”  
  
“It's really okay.”  
  
“But I'm not–”  
  
“Seriously, Dan, you're not going to hurt my feelings.” Phil opened his eyes and ran a hand down Dan's back. “What I was going to say was that when I thought about it, I mean, if you want to experience some new things, then there's a lot of worse choices you could make than picking a friend. I mean, someone who you trust.”  
  
Dan tried to swallow. Words felt stuck in his throat.  
  
“Someone who won't be a fucking prick to you later on,” Phil said. “I wish that I'd– it's just, that's not a bad idea, you know?”  
  
“I can't imagine you ever being like that.”  
  
“I wouldn't.” Phil tilted his head so their foreheads touched. “So, can I kiss you?”  
  
There was so much Dan wanted to say. Phil had everything all wrong and there were assumptions that needed to be corrected and long explanations to work out. Dan couldn't wrap his mind around any of it. There was only one answer he could give.  
  
“Yes,” he whispered.  
  
Phil licked his lips and pulled Dan closer before leaning in.  
  
As many times as Dan had fantasized this moment, he was completely unprepared for the reality. Phil stroked a hand down his cheekbone and he trembled just at the sensation of a warm palm against his jaw. Overwhelmed, he let his eyelids flutter shut and parted his lips, allowing himself to become passive and wait as Phil took his time running fingers through his hair like there was no rush at all.  
  
Phil's lips were smooth and gentle when they found Dan's mouth. His hand settled at the back of Dan’s neck, thumb stroking circles against his skin. Jolts of pleasure rocked through Dan as he kissed back with more insistence than he'd intended.  
  
Phil pulled away too soon. His lips were still close enough that Dan could feel their warmth against his own. “Less confused?”  
  
“No,” he said.  
  
Phil took the answer as an invitation to kiss him again, slipping his tongue between Dan's lips and making low noises in the back of his throat that made Dan want to scream. It was hot, almost too hot under the duvet, so Dan shoved it down so he could get his hands on Phil's body. He was surprised when he wasn’t rebuffed. Phil just kept kissing him like he never intended to stop as Dan’s hands roamed down his back and fumbled over his waistband.  
  
The door opened with a loud creak and a gasp of surprise.  
  
Phil wrenched away and Dan tried to pull back, but they weren’t nearly fast enough.  
  
“Oh, shit, I'm _so_ sorry. Fuck,” Chloe shouted from the doorway. “I was just checking– and, um, anyway, I'm off to bed.”  
  
The door slammed shut again. Dan's head fell against Phil's chest and he groaned.  
  
“No, don’t worry,” Phil said after a moment. “That was exactly the first impression I was hoping to make. Just wait for what I’ve got planned for your parents.”  
  
“At least she won't be coming back in here tonight.”  
  
Phil laughed. “You're joking, right?”  
  
“I guess so.”  
  
“Disappointed?”  
  
“Like you can't fucking tell.” Dan pulled the blanket back up to his shoulders and turned over so his back was to Phil.  
  
“Where are you going?”  
  
“To sleep,” Dan said. “Evidently.”  
  
Phil shifted closer and put an arm over him. “We can still cuddle, right?”  
  
“I'm never little spoon,” Dan grumbled.  
  
“Me either.” Phil's breath tickled the back of his neck. “Maybe we can switch off.”  
  
“Fine,” Dan said. “This is acceptable for tonight.”  
  
He could feel Phil’s smile against his shoulder blade. Definitely acceptable. He doubted he would be able to sleep, but insomnia seemed more a blessing. He didn’t bother closing his eyes as Phil’s breathing dropped into a slow rhythm behind him. There was no telling when he’d get to experience this again. He didn’t want to miss a second.


	8. Chapter 8

“What's this one where you're all on the beach?”  
  
“That was my birthday when I turned fifteen. Look at how Dan's hair gets all curly when it's wet.”  
  
“I've noticed that.”  
  
Dan followed the sound of whispers into the kitchen where Chloe and Phil were sitting at a large wooden table cluttered with empty plates and mugs. Phil was in yesterday's clothes, but they were both already showered and fully dressed. Their shoulders were touching as they huddled over Chloe's phone.  
  
“Hi.” Dan walked into the room, disoriented from waking up alone in an unfamiliar room and feeling a bit too naked in his boxers. Phil and Chloe glanced up in unison. “You're still here.”  
  
“Why wouldn't I be?” Phil asked.  
  
“Your bag was gone.” Dan sat down at the opposite end of the table. It made him feel less exposed. “But then I noticed mine was gone too and nothing made sense.”  
  
Phil pointed guiltily to the chair beside his own. “Didn't really think about that. I was trying to be tidy.”  
  
“It's fine.” Dan picked up the bag containing his clothes with as much dignity as he could muster. Chloe's laughter followed him out of the kitchen.  
  
He'd only managed to get one leg into his jeans when the door swung open again. Phil stepped into the lounge with a rueful expression before closing the door and averting his eyes.  
  
“There should be a lock on that.” Dan's hand fumbled with the zip and button. “How long have you been up?”  
  
“A few hours,” Phil said. “I was about to wake you up actually. I'm leaving in a few minutes.”  
  
Dan adjusted the shirt he'd slept in so it wasn't bunched up in the back. “I thought we had all day.”  
  
“A friend of mine is in London and rang me this morning when he saw that I was here too,” Phil said. “I haven't seen him in a while, so we're going to catch up.”  
  
There was always a sting of jealousy whenever Phil spent time with someone else. It was sharper than usual now that it was infringing on time that Dan would normally get to spend with him. He fought to suppress it.  
  
“Who is it?” Dan asked.  
  
“No one you'd know.” Phil shrugged and leaned back against the closed door, eyes still focused on the floor. “Anyway, um, the reason I followed you was– do you maybe want to come back to my house next weekend? I didn't want to ask in front of Chloe.”  
  
“Aren't your parents back?”  
  
“Yeah. They're okay with it.” Phil looked up cautiously. His face relaxed when he saw Dan was dressed. “And then Stephen's going to be in Manchester so we can film a few things. You could meet him.”  
  
“The guy from Ireland?”  
  
“Yeah, that one.” Phil nodded. “You'll like him. He sort of reminds me of you sometimes.”  
  
Dan checked his hair in the mirror on the wall and smoothed it down with his hands until it was passable. There was something irritating about being compared to someone else. Phil's friends were already vaguely threatening as potential replacements. Now this was an affront to his originality.  
  
“What do you think?” Phil asked.  
  
Dan fidgeted with a few more loose strands and sighed. “Let's go back out. It's not getting any better than this without a shower.”  
  
Phil laughed. “Are you serious? I meant about spending the weekend with me.”  
  
“Didn't I already say yes?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“I meant to.” Dan tried to reach for the doorknob. Phil stayed where he was against the door, blocking his way. “Are we not leaving yet?”  
  
“You seem on edge,” Phil said. “And I don't want to be pushy or act, like, clingy as if you owe me some explanation, but you'd tell me if you felt weird because of last night, right?”  
  
“It's not that.” Dan shook his head. Warmth flooded his chest as the memory. “Trust me, that was– did I tell you that I had a dream you kissed me once?”  
  
“Did you really?”  
  
“Yeah, but it was awful,” Dan said. “You turned into an owl. Made awful little owl noises.”  
  
“I want to say that your brain is a terrifying place, but I’ve probably earned that.” Phil gave him a timid smile. “I won't keep asking what’s wrong because I know you hate that. Just, like, you can tell me if things went too far or you're freaked out.”  
  
The only problem Dan had with the previous night was that they'd been interrupted. The sour mood that he was too exhausted to hide was because Phil was leaving early to spend time with someone else. It was unnecessary resentment. Probably unhealthy. Dan knew better than to reveal his possessive side.  
  
“I'm just tired.” Dan reached around Phil's waist for the door handle again. “And we really should leave before Chloe thinks something suspicious is happening.”  
  
Phil grimaced and moved aside. “Don't say that. I spent three hours this morning rebuilding my image as an adoring boyfriend who isn't just trying to get you naked.”  
  
Chloe appeared unconcerned when they rejoined her and Phil said his goodbyes. She held her arms out for a hug and Phil returned the gesture without a second of vacillation. Dan watched them with a stab of envy at how effortless it seemed. He'd never been comfortable with spontaneous touching, the hugs at the end of a celebration or affectionate shoulder squeezes when a friend was upset.  
  
Casual intimacy eluded him. It felt significant every time he touched Phil, like he was on the cusp of something important and struggling to keep himself from toppling over the brink.  
  
“Take care.” Phil pulled away. “Thanks again for letting me stay.”  
  
“Don't be ridiculous,” Chloe said. “I'm almost glad your plans got all screwed up just so I could meet you.”  
  
Phil turned to Dan with a smile. “See you in a week?”  
  
“Yeah. See you.”  
  
Dan stepped awkwardly into his arms and gave him a quick one-armed squeeze. He was immediately filled with intense regret, knowing that he was overthinking this. They'd hugged half a dozen times before and it'd never felt awkward. Of course, they'd also never had such an observant audience.  
  
“For fuck's safe,” Chloe said with an exaggerated eye roll. “You can kiss your boyfriend goodbye in front of me. I'm not going to run away screaming.”  
  
Phil caught his eye. “Maybe Dan gets shy.”  
  
“I don't.” Dan tilted his head, not stopping to consider whether Phil was offering an escape or asking for one himself. “I'll miss you.”

It was a relief when Phil didn't flinch as Dan leaned forward. His hand automatically cupped Dan's cheek and his lips parted to accept the kiss. It was gentle and sweet, even if Dan fumbled a bit because he couldn't stop smiling.  
  
Phil let his thumb stroke across Dan's bottom lip when he pulled away. He brushed his lips against Dan's jaw, right beside his ear.  
  
“Me too,” he whispered. “Bye.”  
  
Dan watched him walk down the corridor and head to the main staircase before closing the door. He leaned against it and stared at the ceiling, heart pounding.  
  
“Jesus, should I get smelling salt or what?” Chloe's voice was incredulous. “You've really fallen for him.”  
  
Dan laughed. “God, you've no fucking idea.”  
  
“I've got a bit of one.” Chloe smiled and flipped hair out of her eyes as she headed down the hallway. “Don't stop hyperventilating on my account. I'm glad actually, because Phil's completely in love with you.”  
  
Dan's smile faded as he followed her out of the room. It seemed Phil had done a thorough job of it at least.  
  
“What's that face about?”  
  
“Nothing.”  
  
“He hasn't said it yet,” she guessed.  
  
“Neither of us have. We haven't even been together a month,” Dan said. “We're not in the middle of The Bachelor, I mean, _fuck_.”  
  
“So you’re not in love with him?”  
  
“I don't know,” Dan said. “I'm not really– _god_ , but I can't stop thinking about him. Literally all day. The smallest things– it's like I have to stop whatever I'm doing to text him because a fucking dog food commercial made me think of a conversation we had.”  
  
“Truly pathetic.”  
  
“I'd tell you to fuck off, but you're not wrong.” Dan could feel himself blushing, but it was freeing to not downplay how he felt for once. “You're taking all of this better than I expected.”  
  
Chloe cleared her throat as she stripped the mattress. “I had some time to think.”  
  
“And that made you–”  
  
“Can you get the door for me?” Chloe floundered with the bundle of pillows and blankets in her arms. “I need to throw these in the wash before everyone gets back. Unless I should _burn_ them.”  
  
Now Dan was definitely blushing. “We only kissed.”  
  
“As long as you're sure.”  
  
“We haven't even– just shut up, okay?” Dan held the door as she passed by with a smirk. “So do you have classes today? If you need me to leave, that's–”  
  
“It's Sunday,” Chloe interrupted. “You should stick around if you've got time.”  
  
Dan felt his spirits lift as she jumped into an impromptu tour of her flat on the way to the washing machine. He definitely had time.  


* * *

  
Although Dan was disappointed to miss out on spending another day with Phil, it was almost worth it to have the chance to waste an afternoon with Chloe again. He peered at her over a mug of tea, amused by her indignant expression as she criticized their moody waitress, the shoddy decor, and everything else she found distasteful about the only restaurant within walking distance that was cheap enough to afford.  
  
He gave her chair a subtle kick when her voice rose too loud.  
  
“Tell me what you and Phil talked about while I was asleep.”  
  
“He's your boyfriend.” Chloe pouted at being interrupted in the middle of her tirade. “Ask him.”  
  
“I'd rather hear it from you,” Dan said. “Feel free to start with the reasons why you think he's hopelessly in love with me.”  
  
Chloe snorted. “I don't remember using the word _hopeless_.”  
  
“Honestly, I'm doing you a favor. I'm afraid you're going to find an unappetizing topping on your salad if we don't change the subject soon.” Dan set his mug down and grinned. “Indulge me?”  
  
“We just– we covered a lot of topics, all right? He told me about his courses at uni and when he went to show me some old photos– I mean, fucking _hell_ , it was all shots of you, wasn't it?” She paused as their waitress arrived and set plates down in front of them. “Thank you _so_ much. This looks delicious and– well, I guess she's in a hurry.”  
  
Chloe huffed as the woman turned to leave without acknowledging her. “Anyway, then we got around to telling stories about you. Remember that party where you got sick all down your front so you borrowed my leggings?”  
  
“Oh god.” Dan glared as he picked up his sandwich. “The purple zebra print ones?”  
  
“Yeah, those.”  
  
“Please tell me you didn't show him that.”  
  
“I _tried_ , believe me.” Chloe stabbed her salad with glee. “He wouldn't let me. Actually put his hand right over my phone when I got the picture up and told me he didn't want to see anything that would embarrass you.”  
  
Dan stared at her. “Phil said that?”  
  
“Yeah, and I even lied and said that I'd never tell you. He's fucking _precious,_ honestly.” Chloe gave him a bright smile and laughed. “What the hell is he doing with you?”  
  
It was difficult not to wince. Dan wanted to welcome the return of the casual teasing that used to flow between them, but the words stung. Phil _wasn't_ with him and there were too many reasons that immediately came to mind for why that must be true. Dan took a bite of his sandwich and stared out the window as he chewed.  
  
“And there was this look that he kept getting. I don't know, he seemed so _interested_ in every little story I had,” she continued. “He's gone for you.”  
  
Dan's food tasted like sawdust. He took a long sip of water to force it down, wishing he hadn't started the conversation.  
  
It was irresistible to hear what others said about him when he wasn't around, but listening to Chloe list off why she was certain Phil returned his feelings was torture. Phil had specifically told him that he'd spent the morning playing the part of an adoring boyfriend. It was still too easy for Dan to let himself believe that maybe it was all true.  
  
This was why everything always felt confused. He let himself fall for his own lies.  
  
“Is that why you're not angry anymore?” Dan asked. “Phil charmed you into forgiving me?”  
  
Chloe shook her head. “I was already– okay, there's something– I told you that I'd had time to think, right?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“It wasn't just that.” She set her fork down and clasped her hands on the table with an earnest expression. “It was Erica. She made me realize that I was being a complete fucking idiot.”  
  
Now Dan actually did flinch.  
  
“You told Erica? About–”  
  
“That you're dating Phil,” she said. “And I'm really sorry.”  
  
Dan let out a dry laugh. “Are you apologizing for how you reacted or for outing me to my ex-girlfriend?”  
  
“Both?” Chloe sighed and shook her head. “I know I shouldn't have. Look, it wasn't like I told her to get back at you. I kept hearing things? Little rumors and gossip from people I hadn't even– and she's my _best friend_. I didn't want her to hear from someone who was just telling her to get a reaction.”  
  
Dan wanted to hold a grudge out of principle, but he felt his anger fade with every word. It was one of the first times he'd ever heard Chloe apologize. He never knew how to stay angry when someone looked so miserable.  
  
“It's fine,” he said. “I mean, it's _not_ and you shouldn't have done it, but I don't care if she knows. Can you tell me how– like, was she surprised? Disgusted?”  
  
Chloe picked her fork back up and pushed food around her plate. She shrugged. “Not disgusted. Surprised, yeah.”  
  
“But she was okay with it?”  
  
“Do you _really_ want to hear this?” she asked. “Because I've been stopping myself for your sake, but I'll–”  
  
“Stopping yourself?” Dan felt a flutter of fear in his chest. “Of course, I really want to fucking know. Was she upset? Tell me.”  
  
“Yeah, she was upset. Not that you're,” Chloe's eyes darted around the restaurant as she dropped her voice to a whisper, “ _bisexual_. She was fine with that, you know? And she fucking tore into me when I said that we weren't speaking. Gave me an epic lecture about it.”  
  
“Did she?” Dan almost missed those. “I guess you've suffered enough then.”  
  
“And she was right, of course.” Chloe stared at him with pleading in her eyes. “I really am sorry. It wasn't about– I swear, I would have reacted the exact same way if you'd been dating a girl.”  
  
“I know you would have,” he said.  
  
They were silent for a moment, both caught in the same lie of not being as certain as they wished. The air felt heavy with unspoken words that neither knew how to articulate. With a bit of effort, Dan pushed his way through it.  
  
“What upset her then?” he asked.  
  
Chloe looked up. “We watched your videos.”  
  
“On YouTube?”  
  
“Are there some on Pornhub that I should know about?” Chloe laughed. “Yeah, we watched all the ones you've put up so far. And they're _brilliant_. We laughed so fucking hard and it was– but then we saw the one that you'd done with Phil. At his house, right? With the– you know.” She used her fork to mime putting cat whiskers on her face. Dan nodded. “Right, so it was then. Erica just– I don't know, she started crying.”  
  
“So it was, like, seeing us together that did it?”  
  
“It was seeing you so _happy_.”  
  
“Doesn't she want me–”  
  
“Shut up, Dan.” Chloe leaned back in her chair with a frown. “Of course, she wants that. You think it's easy for her to see you being happy with someone else when she spent a _year_ trying to convince herself that you weren't unhappy with her? It was– I don't know, it was just really hard for her.”  
  
“But somehow this whole encounter made you less angry?” Dan asked.  
  
“Well, yeah.” Chloe ran a hand through her hair. “Because she kept– I was mad at you for hurting her, all right? I wanted to blame you, but that didn't make her feel any better. She said that sometimes people hurt each other even though no one did anything wrong.”  
  
Dan stared up at the ceiling and blinked. Tears prickled at his eyes, but he fought them back. “Things like that make me really miss having her around.”  
  
“Don't you normally?”  
  
Chloe resumed eating, poking at her salad as she gazed at him with curious eyes.  
  
“No.” Dan pushed his own plate away. “I don't think about her at all really. When I do, it's nice, like, I feel happy at the good memories. But then to her, I'm this horrible thing that she had to survive.”  
  
“You've still got the better deal.”  
  
“I know,” Dan said. “Would it help if I called her?”  
  
“No, I don't– not yet, at least.” Chloe shook her head. “You know, she really loved you.”  
  
Dan looked away. “I loved her too.”  
  
There was another stretch of silence, as the past tense in their words settled between them. A certain amount of solemnity was required in acknowledging that something beautiful had died. It was like a physical presence in the room, a reminder that time was passing and sweeping Dan's tiny life along with it. All of his goals and passions, everything that felt so monumental in the moment, would wither.  
  
The realization left a lingering ache, but with it came even more conviction that chasing after what he wanted was the only course that made sense. If memories were all that he had left in the end, wasn't that more reason to make them as satisfying as possible?  
  
After a moment, Chloe brightened. “Do you want to tell me more about Phil now?”  
  
“Yes,” Dan said with a laugh. “Literally, always.”  
  
The sun shone through the window and highlighted the back of Chloe's head. Dan reached across the table to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She smiled at him, clearly pleased, as she picked up her mug of tea and waited for him to begin.


	9. Chapter 9

Dan held a hand up to give a five second countdown before mouthing the word _go_ and hitting record.  
  
“How do you like Manchester?” Phil stroked his fingers down Stephen's cheek as he spoke the line. “Have you been enjoying your day?”  
  
Stephen paused for a moment too long before letting his eyes roll back and collapsing onto the floor. Dan stopped recording with a sigh. It was their fourth time filming the same bit and the heavy thud of Stephen's body hitting the ground made Dan wince every time.  
  
“Does that hurt?” he asked.  
  
“Only physically.” Stephen lifted his head off the floor. “I can faint better than that. Must be out of practice. Try it again?”  
  
Dan held the camera up, but Phil shook his head. His eyes darted around the packed shopping center and he made quick hand gestures at a burly man wearing a security uniform. He appeared to be glaring at them.  
  
“I should probably go talk to him.” Phil hurried down the hall before he'd finished speaking. It sounded like he was muttering under his breath as he walked away.  
  
Stephen laughed. “I like how it's not even a question which of us should go talk to the scary guard man.”  
  
“I'm guessing no one got clearance to film here.”  
  
Dan held out a hand to help Stephen to his feet. He'd watched his videos over the course of the week, baffled over his eclectic style and brash personality, thinking that maybe Phil’s comparison had come down to the fact that they both had brown hair cut in similar styles.  
  
It wasn't until they met in person that it became clear why Phil said he was reminded of Dan. Stephen existed in a constant state of anxiety. His nerves, which never came across in videos, were carefully hidden by a self-deprecating sense of humor and rapid-fire conversation style that made it difficult to catch the jokes he made before the discussion had moved on.  
  
Dan instantly liked him.  
  
“Easier to ask forgiveness than permission, isn't it?” Stephen shrugged.  
  
Phil and the security guard seemed to have a civil discussion. Dan smiled as they stood off to the side and waited for the verdict. Watching Phil's animated gesticulating while out of hearing range brought back a vivid memory that had been tugging at him for days.  
  
“So, you know a lot of youtubers, right?” Dan asked. “Ever heard of a guy called Joshua? Or maybe it's Josh.”  
  
“What's his channel name?” Stephen asked.  
  
“I don't know.”  
  
“What type of videos does he make?”  
  
“Not sure.”  
  
Stephen gave him a blank stare.  
  
“No, you see, he was at that youtuber gathering in London, right?” Dan averted his gaze and ran fingers through his hair. He didn't even know for sure if Josh _was_ a youtuber. “I was talking to this girl named Gemma on Halloween. I think there was something about gemstones in her name?”  
  
“Yeah, sure.” Stephen brightened and his voice squeaked as he hit a higher octave in his excitement. “I know Gemma. She does short comedy sketches, right? I don’t know any Joshua though. Are they, like–”  
  
“They're friends, yeah. She mentioned his username but I don't remember it,” Dan said with a casual shrug. “Sort of wanted to check out his videos, you know, generally stalk him.”  
  
Stephen laughed. “Was he cute?”  
  
“He was wearing a costume.”  
  
“Okay then. As long as your interest is entirely platonic.” Stephen nudged him and pointed to where Phil was walking back over to them. “You should ask Phil about it.”  
  
“Yeah, I should,” Dan said weakly. “Maybe later.”  
  
It would be a better idea to forget that Josh existed. Dan liked to think that Phil would have told him if Josh was still a relevant part of his life. They talked for hours every night and Dan had broached the topic on more than one occasion, always stopping short of asking direct questions about the mysterious man who Phil claimed hated him.  
  
That was the piece that kept nagging at Dan. It didn't seem reasonable that anyone, even an ex-boyfriend, could hate Phil.  
  
“Is it all sorted then?” Stephen asked as Phil rejoined them.  
  
“Absolutely. I've got it completely under control.” He gave them a toothy grin and spread his arms wide. “We've been asked to leave. Politely, of course.”  
  
Stephen muttered a curse under his breath. Dan put the cap on the camera and slid it back into its protective case.  
  
“You failed then?” Dan asked.  
  
Stephen snorted. “Our faith was misplaced.”  
  
“Don't call it failure.” Phil stepped between them and put his arms around both of their shoulders as he steered them toward the exit. “It's a chance to expand our creativity. We get to venture out into the unknown now.”  
  
“Walk around for hours trying to find another place with decent lighting,” Stephen translated.  
  
Dan laughed. “We’re adventuring. I like it.”  
  
“All of this optimism is going to make me break out in hives,” Stephen said. “Where’d you find your cameraman, Phil? He’s precious.”  
  
“The internet,” Dan and Phil answered together.  
  
Stephen raised an eyebrow. “That figures.”  
  
It was already late but Dan felt charged with energy as they stepped outside. He never seemed to feel tired around Phil, even though their walk around the city was more exercise than a typical week held for him. It was easy to get caught up in Phil's bursts of excitement.  
  
Dan’s discussion with Chloe from the previous week and his resulting conviction that he would actually bring up some of the conversation points that he'd been practicing in his head for months fell to the sideline as he followed Phil and Stephen around Manchester, trying to capture everything with a steady hand. On more than one occasion, they had to re-shoot because the microphone kept picking up his laughter.  
  
It wasn't until Stephen had gone back to his hotel and Dan was on the last bus from Manchester to Phil's house that he found an indirect way into his questions.  
  
“How long have you and Stephen known each other?” he asked.  
  
“About as long as you and I have.” Phil leaned against the glass and yawned. He closed his eyes as if he intended to nap for the duration of their ride. “The first time we met properly was when I went to Ireland, remember?”  
  
Dan nodded. “Right, of course.” That would explain why Stephen didn't know about Josh either.  
  
“He wants you to do a piece for our channel.” Phil slid an arm around Dan's waist and pulled him closer so that he could rest his head on his shoulder rather than the window. “What do you think?”  
  
“Um, sure– wait, your collab channel?”  
  
“Yeah, that.”  
  
“I don’t know,” Dan said, more than a bit distracted by Phil's close proximity. “He only offered because he thinks I'm your boyfriend.”  
  
“Not true.” Phil opened one eye to peer at him. “Why do you say he thinks you're my boyfriend?”  
  
“Doesn't he?”  
  
“He never asked.”  
  
Dan shuffled lower in the seat. The bus was empty aside from an elderly couple sitting toward the front. He still felt himself flush as he tipped his own head so that he was leaning back against Phil. Affection always came easier when it was late and Phil was tired. Dan smiled as he added this fact to his mental inventory.  
  
“It sounded like he thought we were together,” Dan said.  
  
“He might’ve.” Phil jostled Dan with his shoulder. It was probably meant to be a shrug. “Doesn’t everyone?”  
  
“I guess.” Dan felt Phil’s breath on his neck. It made it hard to concentrate. “Do you ever think this is easier than it should be?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Pretending, you know, like we are.” Dan motioned between them, waving a hand suggestively over where their shoulders were touching and the way one of Phil's ankles was hooked behind Dan's leg. “Do you think it might mean something?”  
  
Phil spread his hands out in an uncertain gesture before pulling away. The bus came to a stop but Dan refused to move. It hadn't been his intention to trap Phil when he'd chosen the aisle seat, but he was determined to wait out a response and he'd use the advantage if necessary.  
  
“The, uh, the driver is glaring.” Phil gave him a nervous look before his eyes darted up to the front of the bus like a trapped animal searching for an escape.  
  
Dan tried to catch his eye. “It doesn’t surprise you how easy this has been?”  
  
“I never expected it to be difficult.” Phil stared down at his hands as he worked the zip on his coat. He stood up as if willing to step over Dan's legs if he didn't move soon. “I didn't plan for any of this.”  
  
Dan picked his bag off the floor with slow deliberation. He was quiet on the short walk back to Phil's house and used the silence to mentally chronicle a tragic backstory to explain Phil's reluctance to acknowledge whatever seemed to be happening between them.  
  
It practically wrote itself. Dan imagined a dramatic narration as it played out in his mind. _A mysterious past relationship had ended in tears._ Cue the rising music, a striking shot of Phil’s face in profile. _How will he ever trust again when vulnerability had led to such pain in the past?_  
  
Dan felt buoyed by the story. It was definitely easier to stomach than the possibility that Phil simply had no interest in him beyond a few kisses.  
  
He’d almost made it to the part where he cajoled Phil into opening up to him and they confessed their feelings in a passionate public display when Phil's voice interrupted his thoughts.  
  
The ringing cheerfulness of his voice made an unsettling contrast to Dan's angst-ridden daydreams.  
  
“It looks like my parents already went to bed.” Phil pointed at the darkened windows as they made their way to his door. “That's good. It’ll be better to meet them tomorrow. My mum can talk for ages if you let her.”  
  
“Does your brother go to bed this early?”  
  
“I'm sure he's still out.”  
  
“Will I meet him tomorrow too?”  
  
“Yeah, probably.”  
  
Dan held onto the back of Phil's shoulders as he led the way through his house without turning any lights on. Their journey ended in the lounge. Phil flicked on a lamp.  
  
“My mum made up the sofa for you,” he said. “I, uh, told her the truth about us.”  
  
Dan felt his face grow warm. “What truth exactly?”  
  
“That we're just friends, you know.” Phil gave him a searching look. “I can't lie to my mum. Not about stuff like that, at least.”  
  
“Yeah, of course.” Dan sat down on the sofa and ran his hand over the sheets, trying to keep the crushing disappointment from showing on his face. “Well, I guess I'll just– I'll see you tomorrow then.”  
  
“Think you'll get lonely?” Phil teased as he backed out of the room. “Come find me if you do.”  
  
Dan stared up at the ceiling after he'd gone, playing the words over and over in his head and questioning the extent of his sincerity.  


* * *

  
There was a cone of light spilling out of Phil's cracked bedroom door when Dan crept up the stairs a few hours later.  
  
If it had been closed, he might have lacked the courage. But the open door seemed like an invitation, like Phil had been waiting for him to sneak up. He stood for a moment, considering his options, before pushing through without knocking.  
  
Phil appeared unsurprised by Dan's entrance. He looked up from the computer resting in his lap with a smile.  
  
“Can't sleep either?” he asked.  
  
“Not so much.” Dan closed the door and walked over to the bed. “I can't sleep in rooms where there aren't any doors.” He took Phil's laptop and set it on his bedside table. Phil gave him a questioning look, but didn't protest. “Can I stay in here tonight?”  
  
Dan felt a surge of adrenaline rush through him as soon as the words were out of his mouth. After hours of indecision over whether this was the worst idea he'd ever had, it had been so simple.  
  
“Yeah.” Phil nodded and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “Want me to take the sofa then?”  
  
“No.” Dan sighed. Of course there'd been a piece he'd neglected. He put both hands on Phil's shoulders to keep him from standing. “Let me rephrase. Can I stay in here tonight _with you_?” He slid his hands down Phil's back, leaning over until his fingers curled around the hem of his shirt. He tugged until Phil lifted his arms and allowed him to pull it over his head.  
  
Phil went still and looked at him with a mixture of confusion and wonder.  He didn't try to stop Dan from touching him and pulling his clothes off, but did nothing to encourage him either. Dan stood with Phil's t-shirt in his hand, feeling more than a bit ridiculous, before uncertainly dropping it onto the floor.  
  
“You do want me here, don't you?”  
  
“Jesus, are you really asking me that?” Phil dropped his face into his hands with a groan. “Yes.” He looked up then, unsheathing a smile like he was revealing a secret. “ _Fuck_ , yes. Do you know how hard it's been stopping myself from touching you all day?”  
  
“Don't then,” Dan said. “Why are you?”  
  
Phil shook his head. “You don't want me.”  
  
That was the second time that Phil had told him that. The tragic backstory was becoming more solidified in Dan's mind.  
  
“I think you're wrong.” Dan immediately regretted his choice of words. He hated the way he always diluted his words with uncertainties, slipping little _maybes_ in where they weren't needed. It was a linguistic stumble, as if his sentiments weren't substantial enough to stand alone. His plan had been to sound strong and confident. He cleared his throat and tried again. “You're _wrong_. I want you.” He put one knee on the bed so that he was practically in Phil's lap. Their faces were close enough to touch.  
  
Phil wrapped his arms around Dan's waist and fell back onto the bed so that Dan was on top of him. Then he rolled over, flipping their positions. “What do you want?”  
  
“Kiss me,” Dan said. “I want you to kiss me.” It registered that Phil was on top of him again, his body pinned to the mattress as Phil worked his hands under his shirt and moved his lips along his jawline and behind his ear, but this time he didn't feel anxious. A shudder ran through him when Phil's fingers curled in his hair. “Please.”  
  
The tiny plea was hardly uttered before Phil was kissing him, tongue skimming over his lips until Dan opened them with a gasp and teased back with his own, intent on being an active participant this time. Phil broke away for a moment to pull Dan's shirt off and ran his hands over his chest before kissing him again with so much fervor that Dan was glad he was on a bed rather than trying to keep his legs from buckling.  
  
Dan spread his legs when his boxers began to feel unbearably tight, a stray hope in the back of his mind that Phil might want to take things further this time. He was so wrapped up in the feeling of Phil's body against his own that it was a few minutes before he noticed their enthusiastic pace was slowing down. Their kisses became gentle and controlled before Phil finally pulled away with a quiet moan.  
  
“What do you want?” Phil repeated. He sounded more desperate this time.  
  
Dan wrapped his arms around Phil's neck and tried to clear his head. It was difficult to think when all he wanted to do was kiss him again. “You,” he said uncertainly.  
  
“You came up here for a reason. Could you– I mean, what did you–?”  
  
“Isn't that obvious?”  
  
“I'm just getting really–” Phil's words broke off in a low groan. “ _Fuck_.”  
  
“What?”  
  
Phil burrowed his face in Dan's neck. “I'm so fucking _hard_.”  
  
“God.” Dan could feel his entire body humming with arousal. Was that supposed to be a warning or an invitation? He lifted his hips instinctively so that he could feel Phil's cock pressed against his thigh. It was only the fear of Phil's parents waking up that kept him from moaning.  
  
“Should we stop?” Phil pushed himself up so that his forearms bracketed Dan's head.  
  
Dan licked his lips and swallowed. “I don't want to stop.”  
  
There was something about Phil's self-control that rankled. He was obviously enjoying this as much as Dan was but everything about him was considered and _careful_. Dan's composure had evaporated the second Phil touched him. It was maddening that he didn't seem capable of putting Phil into a similar state.  
  
Dan wanted to _ruin_ him. He wanted to leave all of that self-possession in shattered pieces on the floor. He pushed his hips up again so that their cocks rubbed together. He felt a rush of satisfaction when Phil's eyes closed and his lips parted, tongue flicking out to wet them.  
  
“Do you want to fuck me?”  
  
Phil's eyes popped back open. It would have been comical if Dan hadn't been wishing quite so desperately for a different reaction. “I thought you weren't sure about that.”  
  
Impressing Phil had become more important than certainty. Dan was used to plunging forward in spite of ambivalence. He let his hands fall on the bed above his head and angled his face down submissively. “I wasn’t but I want to try it.” He tried for a husky whisper but it came out with a tremble. “I'd let you do _anything_ to me. I'd beg for it like–”  
  
“No, don't.” Phil pulled away with a wince. “Don't say that.”  
  
Dan blinked up at him, confused at the vehemence in his voice. “Okay.” No one had ever reacted like that in porn. It couldn't be a good sign. “I was just– so you're not into dirty talk then?”  
  
“Not like that.” Phil shook his head. “Don't tell someone they can do _anything_ to you, I mean, that could end up–”  
  
“Okay, right,” Dan readily agreed, resisting the urge to object that he wasn't a child in need of a lecture. It felt like the perfect moment he'd planned was slipping away. He pulled Phil down for another kiss. “What are you into then?”  
  
“You,” Phil said. “Just, like, normal you.”  
  
Dan laughed weakly. “I don't know what I'm _doing_ though. And I don't know what I want.” He took a breath and shut his eyes. That wasn't entirely true. Somehow the truth always felt harder to say, even when it was less obscene. “God, Phil, I just want to make you come. I don't care how.”  
  
“Okay. Yeah, that's–” Phil slid his hands underneath Dan's hips and lifted them. “Just relax.” There was a muffled sound of fabric rustling as his pajamas rubbed against Dan's boxers and then Phil slowly began easing them both down to mid-thigh.  
  
Dan bit back a groan as he felt Phil's cock against his own. It was warmer than he'd expected and already wet. The heat intensified when Phil wrapped a palm around both of them at the same time and began a slow upward stroke. It was a searing intensity that Dan wasn't sure he could withstand for long. The thought made him even harder.  
  
“Yes,” Dan practically hissed and laced his fingers in Phil’s hair to pull him into another kiss. He didn't trust himself to be able to keep quiet otherwise. A small whimper escaped when Phil broke away after a moment to suck and nip at his neck. “That's– yes, _please_.” He was quivering from the feeling of Phil's teeth gently digging into his skin while his hand kept working over both of their cocks. Dan rocked his hips into the touch, too overwhelmed to be fully aware what he was doing.  
  
Phil's breath went shaky as he built up a steady rhythm, squeezing and twisting with his hand, pushing the head of his cock against the underside of Dan's over and over again until he let out a strangled gasp. Dan watched his face as Phil came, the way his eyes scrunched shut and his mouth drew into a tight line as he tried not to make any noise. Phil's hand never stopped moving. He kept working it over Dan's cock, drawing him closer to the edge with every slick bit of pressure.  
  
Dan spread his legs wider as his balls tightened and the familiar heat radiated throughout his body. Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes from the effort of holding back any sound. He bit down on his lip as he felt the crescendo draw him into higher and higher planes of pleasure until he peaked with a series of hushed whimpers and felt himself spill into Phil's fingers.  
  
The last rush of warmth had just left Dan’s body when he couldn’t hold back any longer. The words practically fell out.  
  
“I think that maybe,” Dan paused to suck in a desperate breath, “I'm sort of falling for you.”  
  
Phil rolled off Dan to reach for a tissue. “I don't believe anything you say right now.” He shook his head as he wiped his hand clean.  
  
Dan pulled his boxers back into place. “Is that because you're still recovering from a painful break up that's left you resistant to emotional vulnerability?”  
  
“ _What?_ ” Phil sputtered out a laugh. “No, it's because you’re, like, ten seconds post-orgasm. You’re talking shit.”  
  
“I'll say it tomorrow then.”  
  
Phil gave another tiny shake of his head. “You don't want to date me.”  
  
“You keep telling me that,” Dan said. “It's not like I'm saying that friendship wouldn't be enough. I'm really _not_. But it's just– you should know. I have feelings for you. I could probably fall in love with– anyway, I mean, is that a problem for you?  
  
Phil stared at him for a long moment. “No. It's not a problem.” He cuddled up to Dan on the bed and wrapped his arms around him protectively from behind. “Dan? It's just that maybe I make a better fake boyfriend than a real one.”  
  
Dan didn't bother hiding the pain that he knew was evident on his face. Phil wasn't looking at him anyway. The lack of pretense he’d used when admitting his feelings added a new layer of humiliation. Hiding behind constructed personalities created a host of problems. Mostly that Dan never knew whether someone genuinely liked him or the image he’d created of himself. The benefit was that he could say the same during moments of rejection. If his personas were a protective shield, he was stripped of armor around Phil.  
  
It was exhausting.  
  
“I'd take my chances,” Dan said, “just so you know. If you ever wanted.”  
  
They were both quiet for a moment and Dan was considering how long it'd be permissible for him to stay before sneaking back out onto the sofa when Phil spoke again. The words were spoken in a rush of breath. It made goosebumps rise on the back of his neck.  
  
“Please don't be sad. It's not like that at all. And it’s not like I care what other people would think.” Phil laughed and gave Dan's waist a firm squeeze. “Obviously, since everyone already thinks we're dating. But you're my best friend and you're fucking _gorgeous_ and I can't keep my hands off you so it's not like I don't feel– but I haven't got it worked out yet.”  
  
Dan grabbed Phil’s hand off his waist and locked their fingers together. “You don't need to have anything worked out.”  
  
“Can't we just keep things like they are for now?” Phil asked. “We don't have to call it anything. I'm not interested in anyone else. Could this be enough for now?”  
  
Dan nodded. “Yes.”  
  
“Yeah?” Phil exhaled a long sigh. It sounded relieved. “You’re sure?”  
  
“ _Fuck_ yes,” Dan clarified. “It’s enough.”  
  
Dan snuggled closer as Phil brought up a blanket to cover both of them. Evidently he wasn’t going to be making use of the sofa after all.  
  
The tiny flicker of disappointment that Phil wasn't interested in a relationship was eclipsed by the elation that Phil at least wanted Dan more than anyone else. If _boyfriend_ was outside of Phil’s comfort zone, then it was something he didn’t need. Being Phil’s best friend was hardly a consolation prize.  
  
And Dan understood being wary of labels.


	10. Chapter 10

Dan had always considered his family to be close.  
  
Maybe they weren't particularly _communicative_. They all shared the same tendency to get fidgety whenever a conversation dug beneath the superficial and it was easy to go weeks without everyone being in the same room together, but Dan found comfort in knowing that he would never return home to find his bedroom had been converted into a home office.  
  
Compared to stories his friends told him about their parents, it was easy to believe he’d been raised in a cocoon of familial bonding.  
  
It only took one breakfast with the Lesters before Dan reevaluated his feelings on the matter. Everything about their home radiated _warmth_ , as if they were friends who genuinely enjoyed being around each other. He couldn’t help feeling that it made his own household look like a group of strangers who grudgingly inhabited the same space.  
  
Phil's parents had already been awake when they finally wandered downstairs. Phil slipped into their conversation with ease as Dan sat beside him and waited for some type of formal introduction. Intuition told him that he should probably go with Nigel and Kathryn rather than Mr. and Mrs. Lester but he'd never addressed a friend's parent by first name before.  
  
He tried to settle his nerves by remaining silent, brushing fingers through his hair in a hopeless attempt to create the impression that he hadn't come directly from Phil's bed.  
  
If either of Phil's parents noticed they'd spent the night together, it was kept well hidden. They talked, and Dan listened with hands folded in his lap, only entering the conversation when asked a direct question. Even then, he sometimes let Phil answer for him.  
  
“So you kept Phil from wallowing while we were away?” Phil's mum turned to Dan with a grin so wide that he automatically returned it. “We should get you to babysit every time we leave.”  
  
Phil scoffed but his dad talked over him. “I know, we were just saying earlier,” Nigel continued, “no one got martyred texts after Dan showed up. I think we stopped getting phone calls altogether.”  
  
“I don't send martyred texts.” Phil cast an indignant look in Dan's direction.  
  
“Well,” Dan said with a small cough, “I've never gotten one anyway.”  
  
“No, believe us,” Kathryn said. “We hadn’t even landed in America before I got the first one.”  
  
“I was only asking you to bring me back sweets.”  
  
“Nigel, will you grab my phone? I'm going to read-”  
  
“ _Fine._ I may have been a bit dramatic,” Phil conceded as his parents exchanged a meaningful look. “What will it take to stop the teasing? Bribery? Restraining order?”  
  
“Oh, I don’t know.” Kathryn reached over to pat his hand. “A bit of distraction might be enough.”  
  
“Should I go wake Martyn up then or will-”  
  
“You think that'd help?” She laughed. “I'm sure he'd have a few things to add.”  
  
Dan bit back a smile as he watched them, picking at his food and trying to find a balance between polite and casual. It was fascinating to watch Phil around his parents. His behavior was more controlled and his jokes were toned down, but his personality remained intact. It was no wonder he didn’t have a problem coming out or letting his family watch his YouTube videos. There was no alternate personality for him to hide.  
  
“Aren't you hungry, Dan?” Nigel asked. “Everything all right?”  
  
“Oh, um.” His words broke off as three pairs of eyes suddenly turned his way and his throat constricted under the attention. “Yeah.”  
  
“Are you sure, love?” Kathryn lifted an eyebrow. “Really, help yourself.” She contradicted her words by filling a mug with coffee and passing it to him before he could protest.  
  
Phil stared at him with a wary expression. “It’s still a bit early for Dan. If you want to go shower and get ready or something?”  
  
“No, really.” Dan shook his head even as Phil’s parents tripped over each other’s words to agree. “It’s fine.”  
  
It went against his instincts to turn down an escape when it was offered, but this pattern was one he wanted to break. It was more than just wanting to make a good first impression. Running away from every situation that made his anxiety spike wasn't the way he wanted to live.  
  
Dan looked up and caught Phil's eye just as he mouthed _“are you okay?”_ in his direction. He picked up his fork with an affectionate roll of his eyes before nodding.  


* * *

  
A thorough inventory of Phil’s bathroom confirmed Dan's theory that he’d taken liberties when his family went away. Dan was amused to find there were no personal items stored behind the mirror anymore.  
  
He was less amused to find there wasn’t a hair dryer either. After a few minutes of attempting to straighten out his curls, he gave up and made his way to Phil's bedroom looking wet and disheveled. It seemed packing his own hair products was going to be necessary if these visits continued.  
  
The fact that Phil's hair always looked nicer than his own considering how little effort he put into it was truly infuriating. Dan was seconds away from pushing through his door and telling him just that when he heard voices inside.  
  
_“-hasn't even come out to his parents yet, so if you could not mention anything. I mean, obviously that's why I wanted him to meet you and-”  
  
_ Phil's voice became too soft to decipher the end of his sentence. Dan stepped closer, barely resisting pressing his ear to the closed door, when the high-pitched lilt of Kathryn's voice rang out.  
  
_“You don't need to worry. And he seems like a lovely boy. I just wanted to make sure you're being careful here.”  
  
“Mum, I promise, there’s nothing going on.”  
  
_ It hurt to hear the words. Even though Dan knew that’s what Phil wanted his family to believe, it made an ache spread throughout his chest to hear their relationship cast to nothing after Phil had claimed he couldn’t lie to his mum.  
  
_“I’ll believe you if that’s what you say.”  
  
“It’s the truth. He’s- it’s just that he’s sad a lot of the time, you know? And I keep thinking-”  
  
_ There was a creak in the floorboard behind him. Dan whipped his head around and took a frantic step away from the door when he saw a lanky man walking up the stairs. He knew from photographs that it was Phil’s brother.  
  
“Hi,” Dan said with a small wave. “Um, you're Martyn, yeah?”  
  
“Yeah.” Martyn nodded as he reached the landing and clapped Dan on the shoulder. “I was just coming up to see if Phil was around. Were you going in?”  
  
“Um, yeah, but your mum is in there.”  
  
Dan kept his voice low and took another step away from the door. The words ‘ _he’s sad a lot’_ were still echoing in his head. The tone had been lost, muffled behind the closed door, but Dan felt sure it was said with at least a small amount of pity. It made humiliation burn through him. As much as he wanted to stay and listen more, he was desperate to make sure no one else overheard.  
  
“Maybe we should leave,” Dan said.  
  
Martyn held a hand up as he listened, but they couldn’t make anything out. It sounded like Phil might be whispering. “I guess she beat me to it.” Martyn's lips formed a tight smile as if he was holding back laughter. “And I was all set to cover for you.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“Oh, you know.” Martyn paused just in time for them to hear _“Well, he's awfully young, Phil, honestly, I think-_ _”_ drift into the hallway. Her voice was disapproving.  
  
Dan bit at the skin on his thumb.  
  
According to a documentary that Phil had recounted over Skype several weeks ago, there were twenty-nine unverified claims that spontaneous combustion had actually occurred in humans. All over the world, there were people who had just burst into flames. It would be a convenient time to round that number up to an even thirty.  
  
“Okay, let's go.” Martyn grabbed Dan by the shoulder to spin him around and usher him down the stairs. “Come on.”  
  
“You know, I'm almost nineteen.” Dan choked out a hysterical laugh. “Oh, _god_. That's not even true. My birthday isn't until June. Shit, and now I sound like my little brother who only stopped including the months with his age last year.”  
  
“You really are every bit as strange as Phil,” Martyn said. The cheer in his voice made it sound like a compliment. “I was going to tell them you were on the sofa when I came in last night. You two must’ve given yourselves away before I woke up.”  
  
Dan followed Martyn into his bedroom and sat down at his desk. “We were filming late and fell asleep. That's _literally_ all that happened.”  
  
The corner of Martyn’s lip twitched. “I've got a twitter account. It probably doesn’t come as a huge shock that I follow Phil on facebook too.”  
  
“That's just- Phil's doing me a favor.” Dan twisted his hands in his lap. This is why he’d wanted a script back when they were planning this out. There should always be a script for these situations. “I wanted to come out and, like, I thought it'd be easier if- and so Phil said he'd let me tell people that we were dating.”  
  
“Really?” Martyn stared at him with a curious expression. “And has it?”  
  
“Has it what?”  
  
“Made things easier.”  
  
“Yeah.” Dan nodded, unsure if that was the truth. “I’ve told, like, all of my friends by now. But that's all it is. Neither of us have any sort of interest in dating.”  
  
Martyn nodded and turned around, dropping to reach beneath his bed. It was obvious that he didn't believe him. Dan tugged at the collar of his shirt to make sure it hadn't slipped down too far.  
  
He’d only meant to corroborate the version of events that Phil had told his family. Phil deserved that much. It was hard to stop talking once the realization hit that he'd gotten himself alone with someone who knew all of Phil's history.  
  
“Does Phil usually bring over the people he dates?” Dan asked.  
  
Martyn paused to think. “I don't think he ever has actually.”  
  
It was impossible to let this alone. Dan could never resist poking and prodding at a wound until he was worse off for it.  
  
“So you never met any of his old boyfriends, like, maybe Joshua?”  
  
“Oh, I met _him_.” Martyn pulled out a large tangle of wires and sat back on his heels to sort through them. “He never brought him to spend the night here. I mean, that'd be awfully cheeky, wouldn't it?”  
  
“Right, yeah.” Dan stared at a spot on the ceiling where the paint had started to peel and tried to convince himself that statement had nothing to do with him. “I guess that would. So, I mean, how come they broke up?”  
  
Martyn looked up, startled. “Which time?”  
  
“There was more than one?”  
  
“About five, I think.”  
  
“Oh, is that-” Dan swallowed. “What happened the first time?”  
  
“Phil didn't tell you?”  
  
“It never came up, I guess.”  
  
Martyn stood up and crossed the room, letting a long black cord trail behind him. He reached across the desk where Dan was sitting and plugged it into the back of a large musical keyboard. It was larger and had more buttons than the one Dan had at home, but appeared unused from the amount of dust it had collected.  
  
“You play, right?” Martyn wiped a cloth over the keys and pressed a few notes.  
  
There was a subtle shift in mood that made it clear their conversation was over. Dan had been trusting Martyn to have the typical disregard for his younger brother's privacy, but the standard didn’t seem to apply in their household. The family loyalty was impressive, if annoying.  
  
Dan nodded. “I've taken piano lessons.”  
  
“Phil tells me you're really good.”  
  
“Only someone with absolutely no discernible taste in music would say that.”  
  
“Well, that'd explain it.” Martyn laughed and pulled up another chair.  
  
Dan moved to make room for him. “Are we playing a duet?”  
  
“How about a theme music play off?” Martyn asked. “The more obscure, the better. They might be up there for a while.”  
  
“Do video games count?”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
Dan cracked his knuckles as if preparing for battle. “You are _so_ fucking on.”  
  
It was twenty minutes before Phil came into the room with a flushed face and stuttered apology. Dan shrugged it off and taught him to play the Bubble Bobble theme tune.  


* * *

  
Dan wasn't sure how Phil managed to talk him into staying an extra night. The rushed message left for his parents was _really_ not going to go over well.  
  
They'd been at Starbucks again, wasting a couple hours in Manchester after they’d wrapped up filming with Stephen and said their goodbyes. There was plenty of time to make it to Dan's train. His bag was packed and slung over his shoulder. He didn't have any clean clothes for the next day.  
  
There was just something about the way Phil slid his hand down Dan's arm and locked their fingers together that made it impossible to refuse.  
  
“Aren't your parents going to think it's weird when I'm still here in the morning?” Dan asked. “Not that the thought of you suffering through another lecture isn't _slightly_ hilarious.”  
  
“They'll both be at work tomorrow.” Phil closed his bedroom door quietly. Neither of them had made any pretense that they'd be spending the night apart. “This is just-”  
  
“I _know_ ,” Dan said, because he didn't. There was no way to predict what Phil was going to say next, but for once he didn't want to hear it. “We'll just sleep, okay?” He stepped forward, crowding Phil onto the bed and pleading with his eyes for him to keep silent.  
  
It was clear that neither of them were tired. Even as Phil yawned and curled up onto his side, his eyes were bright and alert.  
  
“I'm glad you stayed,” he said. “I feel like I barely got to spend any time alone with you today.”  
  
“Don't like sharing me with your family?”  
  
“I'm glad you met everyone. But, no.” Phil scooted closer to pull Dan against his chest. “I don't get to see you enough as it is.”  
  
The scent of toothpaste mingled with soap was a sharp reminder of the previous night. Dan could practically taste Phil’s lips and feel Phil’s scratchy jaw against his cheek.  
  
He took a deep breath and leaned his forehead to Phil's chest with a quiet sigh. Everything would be easier if he wasn't so _pathetically_ attracted to him. Every touch sent him spiraling back into the same cycle of wanting and resisting.  
  
Phil tilted his head, but Dan pulled back. If this was pity, he didn’t want it. He couldn't tell where the lines were anymore. He was fucking tired of guessing.  
  
“You all right?” Phil asked, genuine concern in his voice.  
  
“God, you ask me that so much.”  
  
“Does it bother you?”  
  
“Yes, because I’m _fine_. It makes me feel like you're trying to protect me or something.” There was a hint of irritation seeping into his voice. Dan struggled to soften it. “I'd rather you were honest with me, like, even if it's something you know I don't want to hear.”   
  
“What do you mean?” Phil sounded confused. “There's nothing dishonest about wanting to protect you. It's not some creepy, or I don't know, _possessive_ thing-”  
  
“I know that. It’s just that sometimes I feel like it makes you,” Dan paused as he searched for a word that fit, “sugarcoat.”  
  
“Sugarcoat?”  
  
“You know what I mean.” Dan turned over so he faced the wall rather than having to look at the unrestrained expressions on Phil's face as they spoke. “Like if you think I can't handle something, you'll try to make it easier on me.”  
  
“What do I think you can't handle?” Phil wrapped his arms around him from behind. “Give me an example.”  
  
There were a dozen examples that Dan could use. Times that Phil had taken over something that made Dan nervous or offered an explanation so that he wouldn't have to come up with one. He was doing it right at that exact moment, holding and cuddling Dan against his chest because he knew that he was upset.  
  
Those weren't the examples Dan wanted to discuss.  
  
“Can we talk about last night or am I breaking some unspoken agreement?”  
  
Phil paused. “What?” There was a huff of warm breath against the back of Dan's neck. “No, that's- we can talk about anything you want. What about last night?”  
  
“It was a little vague, you know, what you told me,” Dan said. “You said you wanted to keep things like they are. Did you really mean that you're disinterested?”  
  
“I'm not disinterested.” Phil's hand brushed against Dan's neck, moving over the mark he'd left there.  
  
Dan shivered. “Are you sure? If this is pity, like, if I found out later on that you've just felt sorry for me this whole time-”  
  
“ _What?_ ”  
  
“-it might destroy me a little bit.”  
  
“Why would I feel _sorry_ for you?” Phil laughed. “God, it must be so hard being gorgeous and funny and talented and having everyone want you. I mean, really, tell me how you cope.”  
  
Dan pulled away and sat up. “You'd feel sorry for my ridiculous, _pitiful_ little crush.” He stared down at his lap where his hands were clenched into fists so that he wouldn't have to look at Phil's stupid, frustrating face. “How I actually believed you might feel the same way, but this whole time you've just been indulging me because you didn't want to hurt my feelings or because you think I’m _sad_ a lot of the time.”  
  
Normally any strong display of emotion would make Dan cry. It didn't matter if it was anger or disappointment or happiness. Passionate expressions had always come with tears. He blinked, surprised to find his eyes dry and his voice still in control.  
  
“When you tell me you have a crush on me,” Phil spoke quietly, “that doesn't make me feel sorry for you.”  
  
“Then what-”  
  
“Mostly, it _worries_ me.” Phil sat up beside him. “I thought you said last night that it was enough to keep things how they are. Was that just-”  
  
“No, it is.” Dan sighed, scrubbing a hand across his forehead and searching for a way to explain without admitting what he’d overheard. Unable to find the right words, he bit out, “I just fucking want to know _why_.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“It's fine if you just want to be friends, _really_ , and it's not that I don't appreciate everything you've done,” Dan shook his head, “because I do. And I get that your answer was no, but I need to understand the reason why.”  
  
Phil let out a humorless laugh. “The reason why. Do you want them all?”  
  
“So there's a full list?” Dan let himself collapse back on the bed in defeat. “That figures.”  
  
“You're younger than me.”  
  
“That's a shit reason and you know it.”  
  
“Let me finish. Please.” Phil stretched back out beside him. “Crushes don't always last a long time, especially when you're still trying to figure things out with, like, your sexuality.”  
  
“Pretty fucking sure I've got that much sorted by now,” Dan grumbled. “I think you were there last night.”  
  
“You don't do long distance relationships.”  
  
Dan’s face contorted in confusion. “When did I say that?”  
  
“The night you broke up with Erica.”  
  
“I wasn't talking about _you_.” Dan felt his chest tighten at the memory of his careless words. “That was- I don't care if-”  
  
“We haven't known each other for all that long,” Phil continued. “Sometimes you say things and I can't tell how serious you are or if you're just saying them to get a reaction. Last night when you asked me if I wanted- and _god_ , you don't know how much I wanted to say yes.”  
  
Dan felt a rush of heat go through his body. “Did you really?”  
  
“Obviously. I've wanted you since before we even met.”  
  
“So have I.”  
  
“No, that’s not true. You didn't feel the same way. Not back then. Or why would you ask me to pretend to be your boyfriend instead of just asking me out?”  
  
Dan felt his stomach drop. He cupped Phil's jaw. There was no way to explain that wouldn’t sound like a lie being told out of convenience.  
  
“It's okay,” Phil said. “You don't have to- I get it, really.”  
  
“I don't think you do.”  
  
“There’s also the fact that you just got out of a three year relationship and should probably take it slow before jumping into another,” Phil said. “And you're still not out to your parents.”  
  
There was a note of finality to his last statement that made it clear it was the one he considered insurmountable. Dan stared at him in confusion, mind racing back over all of the times Phil had mentioned it before.  
  
“Why is that so important to you?” he asked.  
  
“Can I tell you tomorrow?” Phil let out a quiet laugh. “This is sort of exhausting and I don't want to get pulled into another long discussion right now.”  
  
“There's no quick answer?”  
  
“Not really.”  
  
“You'll tell me in the morning?”  
  
Phil sighed. “Yeah. I promise.”


	11. Chapter 11

Abnormal sleeping patterns were a persistent nuisance in Dan's life.  
  
In addition to his yearning to nap through every second of daylight and inability to fall asleep once it was finally a socially acceptable hour, Dan had always been what his mum called a _slow riser_. A large part of his morning routine was dedicated to hauling limbs that felt like bags of sand out of bed and repeatedly opening leaden eyelids that would rather buckle than blink. It was a problem that he'd long accepted as unsolvable.  
  
The heavy _thwump_ of his arm hitting the empty pillow beside him served as a remarkable panacea.  
  
Dan's fingers groped over Phil's unoccupied side of the bed. “What the _actual_ fuck.”  
  
He forced himself to his feet and searched his bag for clean boxers before remembering he hadn't packed clothes for an extra day. Muttering a string of broken curses under his breath, he stole a pair from Phil before tugging on yesterday's jeans and stumbling his way to the bathroom.  
  
“Hey.” Dan's voice was still gritty with sleep when he made his way downstairs minutes later. He squinted into the blinding sunlight streaming in through the lounge window before collapsing into an armchair opposite where Phil was sitting on the sofa. “Found you.”  
  
“Was I missing?”  
  
Dan gave him a sleepy nod.  
  
“You slept forever.” Phil took a sip from a large mug and then set it back down on the cushion beside him. His legs were crossed and his laptop was balanced on his knees. It seemed a precarious balancing act. “I even tried waving coffee under your nose.”  
  
“Did you actually?”  
  
“Well, I stood in the doorway while holding it. You know, checking if you were still alive.”  
  
“It took me a while to fall asleep.” Dan pulled his feet onto his chair and tucked them under his body. “Your parents not around then?”  
  
Phil’s house was quiet so he assumed they were at work already. It was a Monday morning after all. Possibly afternoon. It was too bright for it to still be morning.  
  
“Yeah, Martyn's gone for the day too. It's just us.”  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
“Just going over the footage from yesterday.”  
  
“You're editing? Wow, that’s offensive.” Dan's indignation was curbed by his lethargy. He stifled a yawn. “You abandoned me to do actual work.”  
  
“Abandoned?” Phil asked. “What were you expecting exactly? To come downstairs and find I'd disappeared in the night.” He closed his laptop and set it on the table. “Packed up and escaped on the first flight to Australia all to avoid questions about my ex-boyfriend?”  
  
“Would you do collab videos with wallabies?” Dan allowed his eyelids to crumple under the weight of his exhaustion. “I hear they’ve got a thriving YouTube community.”  
  
“Either that or the huntsman spiders.”  
  
“Sounds like a plan,” Dan said. “Why’d you think I was going to ask about Joshua?”  
  
“Martyn.”  
  
“Oh.” Dan opened his eyes. It was more of a surprise than it should have been. “He told you about that.”  
  
“Yeah.” Phil shifted and the mug on the sofa gave an unsettling tremble beside him. “Why didn't you just ask me if you wanted to know?”  
  
Dan stared at the liquid dancing closer to the brim. “Can you move that?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“These belong on _tables_.” Dan heaved himself to his feet and settled on the sofa beside Phil before reaching over his lap to rescue his coffee from peril. “Would you have answered me if I'd asked?”  
  
“Why wouldn’t I? Yeah, of course.”  
  
“You sort of shut me down last night.”  
  
“It's not good to start a discussion when it's late,” Phil said. “It all becomes pointless rambles and oversharing, doesn't it?”  
  
Dan gave him an incredulous look. “Oversharing isn't a word that I associate with you.”  
  
“And it's hard enough to keep it together when we're _not_ in bed.”  
  
“Well, we aren't now.” There was a loose thread hanging off the end of Dan's jumper that was begging him to tug it free. The only reason he was resisting unraveling the whole thing was because it was another piece of clothing borrowed from Phil. “Are you going to tell me now?” He pulled the sleeves down and hooked them around his thumbs.  
  
“Remember how I said that it was about a year before I came out?” Phil asked. “It was hard. I don't mind hiding stuff so much because, you know, privacy and all that. But after a while, there was no way around telling lies to my parents and all of my friends. It felt weird, you know? I hated it.”  
  
“Why did you wait that long then?” Dan asked.  
  
“Joshua was, like, _completely_ against telling anyone.” Phil’s hands were clenched tight around his knees. It was strange listening to him speak without his impassioned gesticulating. “It got to a point where I gave him an ultimatum. Either I could tell my parents we were together or we were breaking up. I wanted to come out and I didn’t want to lie anymore.”  
  
“That sounds fair.”  
  
“I thought so.” Phil paused. “At the time, at least.”  
  
Dan gave him an encouraging nod to disguise his impatience. His mind was already racing ahead, guessing what might be coming next.  
  
“He said to go ahead if it was that important. So, I did and it all went fine, like–”  
  
“You told me that part already,” Dan said, unable to stop himself. “I mean, sorry, keep going.”  
  
“Right.” Phil laughed and glanced off to the side. “I didn't stop there. It was, like, addictive once I came out. It was hard to shut up about it, you know? I told friends of mine– or, well, friends of _ours_ that I thought would keep it quiet.”  
  
“But they didn't?” Dan guessed.  
  
Phil shook his head. “I didn't even tell people we were together, but it was– I guess it was obvious to people for a while and then they took it as confirmation when I told them I was bi.”  
  
“I’m confused. What the fuck is with the guilt then?” Dan shook his head. This wasn't the explanation he deserved. He felt cheated. “It’s not like you outed him.”  
  
“I practically did.”  
  
“It's not fair to expect you to stay in the closet forever because he–”  
  
“Yeah, but even his _parents_ found out.”  
  
Dan stopped talk, mouth agape. “Is that why you're so fucking _fixated_ on me coming out before we– I mean, before–”  
  
“No, that's not exactly– before we what?”  
  
“I don't know.” Dan rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Just forget it.” It was painfully obvious, but there was no end to that sentence that didn't shove straight past confidence into unmitigated arrogance. “So what happened then?”  
  
“He broke up with me.”  
  
“But you got back together?”  
  
Phil jerked his head up in surprise. “Yes.”  
  
“I guess your brother didn't mention that part of our conversation,” Dan said. “Martyn told me you did, like, an on-again-off-again thing for a while. How long did that go on for?”  
  
“About another year, if you count the time in between.”  
  
“Oh, that's–” Dan's mind was full of numbers, varying stops and starts in a jumbled algorithm of months together and apart, circling around how many times something could be torn and put back together. “Sounds awful, honestly.”  
  
“The times when we weren’t together were always the best.” Phil kept his eyes fixed on the table. “It kept convincing both of us to give it another shot, you know? It was sort of unhealthy, like, he couldn’t stop being angry and there wasn’t anything I could do to fix it.”  
  
“That doesn't have anything to do with us.” Dan shook his head. “Are you worried the same thing might happen again? I mean, please, go ahead and tell my parents. It'd save me the trouble.”  
  
Phil frowned. “You don't mean that.”  
  
It'd been a flippant remark, but Dan thought that maybe he did. It was the awkward conversation that he was dreading, not their knowing. There wasn't much of a chance that his parents would be angry. His father would be embarrassed. His mum would probably get anxious. God, he hoped that she didn't cry.  
  
Dan looked up to find Phil had moved away from him. He seemed to have taken Dan’s silence for agreement.  
  
“It's been two months and you haven't even _talked_ about telling your parents since the night you asked if I'd pretend to be your boyfriend.” Phil turned to him then, eyes wide in appeal that twisted Dan's stomach into knots. “Where do they think you are right now?”  
  
“London.” Dan forced himself to exhale slowly. “Spending the weekend with Chloe.”  
  
“You wouldn't be lying to them if there wasn't a reason.”  
  
There were several fairly obvious conclusions that could be drawn from such a resolute statement. Dan rejected all of them.  
  
“I lie to them all the fucking time actually,” Dan said without a bit of remorse. “Most families don't tell each other everything like yours.”  
  
“Or it's because I'm five years older than you.”  
  
“Right. That'd potentially be a problem if I was a _child_ ,” Dan spoke slowly, “which I'm _not_.”  
  
Phil looked away. “Or maybe it's–”  
  
“Stop trying to figure out how I feel before I've worked through it myself.” Dan pushed fingers through his hair in irritation. “Do you even realize when you do that? Tell me how I'm feeling rather than ask?” At Phil's shake of the head, he continued. “I haven't told them, but that's not because I'm too scared. And it’s also not because this is some casual thing for me. It's just– god, it's fucking _procrastination_ really.”  
  
To Phil's credit, he didn't speak, though his teeth dug into his bottom lip as if the effort was substantial.  
  
“I'm going to tell them,” Dan said. “Soon.”  
  
“Okay.” Skepticism flashed across Phil's face.  
  
Dan remained silent. There was no point defending himself when there were actual steps he could take to prove that he was serious instead.  
  
In all of the reasons Phil had given last night for why they shouldn't be together, he hadn't once hinted that not _wanting_ to be with him was part of the problem. The full list could be consolidated down to the sole point of thinking Dan wasn’t ready. He only needed a bit more time to show that wasn’t the case.  
  
“Can I help?” Phil asked. “I could visit and tell them with you or– I don't know, if you think that'd make things worse, we could call this off and you could tell your friends we broke up or even that–”  
  
“No,” Dan said urgently.  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
“I don’t want to do this alone.”  
  
Several seconds passed in silence until Dan leaned forward to place both hands on Phil's jaw, cupping his face gently and forcing him to lift his head until their eyes met. “We'll do like you said.” Dan ran a thumb over Phil's bottom lip, freeing it from where it was captured by his teeth, red and swollen. “Keep things like they are and just see how it goes. I'll find a way to tell them.”  
  
Phil caught Dan's wrist and pulled it away from his face. “If that's what you want.”  
  
The air between them felt thick with what Dan wanted.  
  
Before he could do something stupid like try to kiss Phil seconds after agreeing to take things slow, he leaned away to grab the mug off the table and took a long gulp. Phil’s coffee was disgusting and tepid, but the bitter taste served as the shock to his system that he needed.  
  
“Hey,” Phil protested. “There's a dozen free cups in the kitchen.”  
  
“Fuck off.” Dan scoffed as he set it back down. “I'm welcome to share your underwear, but not your drinks? That makes sense.” He wrinkled his nose. “Anyway I’m doing you a favor. That had to be vile even before it went cold.”  
  
“Elitist coffee snob.”  
  
“Yeah, well. Are we going to Manchester now?” Dan asked. “I need Starbucks after that swill.”  
  
“Yeah, as soon as you're ready.” Phil's face was full of relief at the change in conversation. “How long can you stay today?”  
  
“I traded shifts so I don't work until tomorrow.” Dan stood up. “We've got until the last train leaves.” He held a hand out to Phil with a reluctant smile. There was never enough time before they were saying goodbye again.  


* * *

  
Phil stirred his coffee distractedly, oblivious that both the caramel drizzle and whipped cream had melted already, as he grinned for photos and politely answered questions from the small crowd that had noticed them tucked away in a corner.  
  
His expression seemed unnatural in a way that Dan couldn’t quite place. There were tiny movements that jarred, a smile that was too wide, eyes squinting too tight during hugs.  
  
Dan slung his legs over the armrest on the sofa as he watched the scene playing out in front of him. So Phil did have a persona after all. It was different than Dan had expected. Probably why he'd never noticed it before. Rather than a character that had been constructed from scratch, it was just his normal disposition, fine-tuned and scrubbed clean.  
  
“Now I know how narrators in wildlife documentaries feel,” Dan commented after they were alone again. “The coyotes circling, stalking their prey. It's more fun to observe than intervene.”  
  
“They're not _allowed_ to stop them,” Phil said. “It's their job to film everything, not control what’s going on.”  
  
Dan hummed his acquiescence. He took a sip of macchiato and ignored how it burned his tongue.  
  
“I couldn't do it, could you?” Phil asked. “I'd be the guy screaming to turn the cameras off so I could save the baby rabbits.”  
  
Dan leaned against Phil's shoulder as he swiped at the lock screen on his phone. “Now you're just admitting to starving coyotes.”  
  
There were already pictures up on twitter of their walk through Manchester. It was entertaining to see his life chronicled by people who didn't even seem to know who he was. There were only a few sprinkled throughout that mentioned him by name; a handful of _“is that Dan with him again?”_ comments and even one _“they seem to be around each other a lot these days”_ followed by a suggestive wink face.  
  
Dan only hesitated a second before hitting favorite.  


* * *

  
The train ride home from Manchester was approximately twelve times longer than the exact same trip in the opposite direction. Dan's internal clock confirmed this even if his itinerary didn't. He always wanted to crawl into bed as soon as he got home; the main benefit being that he avoided an ambush from his parents.  
  
It was a system that _usually_ worked.  
  
Dan’s feelings of trepidation were validated when his mum knocked on his bedroom door the following day as he hurried to get dressed for work. He’d really pushed his luck by extending his visit with Phil an extra day without giving the barest attempt at a plausible reason.  
  
“Do you have a minute?” she asked upon entering.  
  
“Uh, yeah.” Dan looked up warily from where he was rifling through a drawer for his nametag. “I've got to leave for work soon though.”  
  
“Thanks for the message letting us know when you'd be home.”  
  
“Sure.” Dan crouched down to see if it'd fallen below his desk. “You haven't seen my badge, have you? My boss might literally kill me if I tell him I've lost another one.”  
  
“Dan.” Her tone was sharp. “Please stop for a minute.”  
  
He sat back on his heels with a sigh. “Is something wrong?”  
  
“Didn't Chloe have classes yesterday?”  
  
“She took the day off.”  
  
“You've been seeing a lot of her lately.” His mum folded her arms and waited for a moment. “Are you going to make me ask?”  
  
“I’m not sure what you mean.” Dan shifted his eyes back to the floor as he continued to pat behind his desk. “Ask what?”  
  
“It might really hurt Erica's feelings if she finds out about this.”  
  
Dan looked up with a startled laugh. His mum was pinching the bridge of her nose. “You think I'm dating Chloe.” He shook his head, amused. “No, honestly, we're not.”  
  
She let out a long, nasally sigh. “I don't mean to be crude, dear, but you haven't exactly been careful about hiding your activities.”  
  
“I don't know what– _shit._ ” Dan's fingers brushed against something sharp. “Sorry. Found it.” He yanked the badge out and stood up to pin it on his shirt. That was one problem solved. “What were you saying? I'm going to be late.”  
  
“Your– oh, please.” His mum's hands were fluttering around the collar of her shirt, gesturing mildly at her neck. “Don't make me say it.”  
  
Dan felt his shoulders tense in a cringe at the realization of what she meant. “Oh, that's, um, that isn't from Chloe.”  
  
His mum widened her eyes in expectation and sat down on the edge of his bed, smoothing a hand over his sheets. Dan glanced around the room as if hoping for an escape before settling down beside her.  
  
This wasn't the way he’d planned things out, but he knew better than to back down from an available opportunity. It would only make it harder when he tried again.  
  
“I've been dating someone,” Dan said. “Someone new.”  
  
“Why didn't you tell me?”  
  
“I've wanted to tell you about it, but I've been a little worried.” Dan shrugged. “You liked Erica so much. I don't know.” He tapped his fingers against the mattress and was amused to look down and see his mum's fingers drumming a similar rhythm next to him. He smiled at it, reassured somehow. “Mum? It's Phil. I'm dating Phil, so that's why– it's because, like, I'm dating a boy and I wasn't sure how you'd react.”  
  
“You’re dating another boy?” Her eyes held his gaze, soft and concerned.  
  
Dan nodded. There was something awkward about describing Phil as a boy, but that was the way his mum viewed him. It was probably better to err on the side of non-threatening. Phil was just another boy. Nothing more.  
  
Somehow it felt like more of a lie than telling her that they were dating.  
  
His mum stood up and paced the length of his room with her hand held to her mouth. She went to the door and Dan thought she might leave without saying anything more, but she only closed it and turned around.  
  
“You spent the weekend with him?” Her voice sounded hurt. “You weren't with Chloe after all?”  
  
“I shouldn't have lied to you.”  
  
The pain and anxiety in her expression made Dan’s stomach churn. It didn't escape his attention that her only concern when she’d thought he had spent the weekend with Chloe was that it might hurt Erica's feelings, but he tried to push the thought aside.  
  
“Phil?” she asked. “That's– you went to see him before, didn't you?”  
  
Dan nodded and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He ignored the two missed calls and scrolled through his photos until he got to the ones he'd taken with Phil on their first trip to Manchester. A wave of gratitude washed over him that Phil had thought to take them and was still willing, even after their confusing conversations, to help him through this.  
  
He tapped on a photo where they were standing outside as the wind blew their hair out of place. Phil’s arm was flung around his shoulders and they were both grappling with the bags in their hands.  
  
“That's Phil. He lives in Manchester.” Dan let her take the phone from his hand. “His parents were around the whole weekend too. It wasn't– I mean, like, his brother was there too.”  
  
She stared down, scrutinizing the photo as if for evidence of deception. “Is he in school?”  
  
“He just finished his degree. He went to York.”  
  
“What does he do now?”  
  
“I told you that before. He’s an actor.” Dan hesitated. “He was even in a real film last year.”  
  
His mum nodded and set the phone back down on the bed. Dan breathed a silent sigh of relief that she didn't seem fussed over the fact that Phil was a few years older.  
  
“You're not, like, upset, are you?” he asked.  
  
“Of course not.” She shook her head fiercely and turned to give him a hug before holding him at arm's length. “I'd never be upset. A bit surprised.”  
  
Dan waited another few seconds before lifting a hand. “It doesn't have to be a big deal, does it?”  
  
“What about Erica?”  
  
“It’s nothing to do with her.” Dan bit down on the inside of his cheek. He’d learned to expect this question in some form by now. “I’m bisexual.”  
  
His mum nodded again. “And you're sure?”  
  
“Yeah,” he said. “I wasn't for a while, but it's been obvious ever since I met Phil. I think that– I don’t know, I’ve really fallen for him.”  
  
“That’s all that matters then. I'm happy if you are.” She gave his hand a long squeeze before standing up. “Can we wait to tell your father?”  
  
Dan felt his stomach drop. “Why?”  
  
“It’s just that, maybe we should see what happens first.”  
  
“Like if it’s some sort of phase?” Dan let out a short laugh. “Or to see if we break up? Because I won’t be any less bisexual if we do.”  
  
His mum widened her eyes, pleading with him to understand. “You know it'll be a shock to him. It's almost _Christmas_.”  
  
“And I'll, what, ruin that for everyone?” Dan asked. “Because I've got a boyfriend?” He looked down at his phone and jumped up. He was already five minutes late for work and it took another fifteen to get there. “I have to go.”  
  
Dan ignored his mum's quiet noise of protest as he pulled shoes onto his feet and scrambled out the front door.  
  
It could have gone worse. It honestly could have gone _so_ much worse.  
  
He took a deep breath once he was outside and looked to see what calls he’d missed. There was one from Phil and another from his boss. There were voicemails left from both of them, but he dialed work to let them know that he was on his way without bothering to listen. He swore under his breath as the phone rang. This wasn’t the first time he’d been late this month.  
  
“It's Dan Howell,” he said in answer to the rehearsed greeting. “Just calling to say that I'm running a bit late.”  
  
“Hello, Daniel.” His boss had a voice that went saccharine when he was angry. Right now it was dripping sticky-sweet in every syllable. “Well, let’s see. Your name is on the schedule. I don't remember putting you on the schedule for today, but there it is.”  
  
“Right,” Dan huffed and quickened his pace. “I switched off shifts from yesterday.”  
  
“And yet,” his boss drawled, “you're not here.”  
  
“I'm on my way. Literally, right around the corner,” Dan lied. “Five minutes at the most.”  
  
“You can't pick and choose when you show up.”  
  
“I _know_ that. I've got a good reason.”  
  
“Well, you always do.”  
  
“You see, I was just talking with my mum and–”  
  
“I don't need an explanation. I need _reliability_. This isn't the first time with you.” There was a long pause that was filled with the squeak of his rolling chair. Dan imagined him leaning back in it, swiveling in an evil little circle. “Don't bother coming in. You’re fired.”  
  
The words came like a slap.  
  
Dan stopped with his hand on the latch to his gate. “Okay.” He waited to see if his boss would say anything else, unsure of how to respond. “Thank you.”  
  
There was a gruff sound from the other line, most likely an aborted _you're welcome_ that almost slipped out on instinct before his boss thought better of it, and then a loud clank as he slammed the phone down. He probably thought Dan was taking the piss.  
  
Dan unhooked the latch and continued walking, not wanting to admit what had just happened or face his mum yet. He held the phone back to his ear and listened to Phil's message.  
  
_“Guess what I'm doing right now.”_ There was a loud intake of breath and rush of laughter before Phil's voice broke back in. _“That was the sound of me trying to catch a snowflake on my tongue but it hit me in the eye. Anyway the point is that it's snowing! Have you got any there? It’s just a flurry right now, but we're supposed to get more and it makes me wish you were back here. You're coming back soon, right? I know you only just left, but I've got an idea for a Christmas video and it'd be so_ _– I'll tell you more about it when you're off work. I'll be on Skype, so you can- well, whenever you're free. Bye.”  
  
_ There was a brief pause and another nervous laugh before the message ended.  
  
Dan shoved his phone back into his pocket and tilted his face upward. The usual dark layer of clouds blocked out the sun.  
  
He'd never been one to believe in signs or to look for hidden meaning inside a coincidence, but he couldn't stop himself from searching the slate-grey skies and hoping that just one snowflake would fall. It would be a nice show of solidarity from the universe.  
  
There was a low rumble of thunder from above. Dan turned to head back inside.


	12. Chapter 12

“The absolute lowest moment,” Dan released a held breath to work the tension out of his jaw, “was my dad actually _agreeing_ there was no point looking for another job now that it's the holidays.”  
  
There was brief pause on the other line before Phil asked, uncertainly, “That was the worst part?”  
  
“What else would be?”  
  
“I'd have thought the screaming bit.”  
  
“No, you don't understand.” Dan skidded to a stop as he hit a slippery patch on the pavement. “ _Fuck_ , it's icy as shit out here. Hold on.” He needed a proper pair of snow boots if he was going to keep up his new life as a pedestrian but it'd be a bit counterproductive since the whole point was to save money on petrol for his car. He switched the phone to his right ear so his dominant hand was free to grab for the bag that was sliding off his shoulder. “It’s not like he agreed to be nice to me. It was a complete dismissal of the idea that I might be able to fix things.”  
  
“Did you want him to keep arguing then?”  
  
“Yeah, maybe,” Dan said. “Then I could be hostile back to him because, like, it’d be totally unreasonable for him to expect anyone to hire me when I'm starting work experience soon and I'll just have to quit in January.” He stopped walking before turning onto the street where Chloe's parents lived. There was every possibility that she had her face glued to the window as she waited for him. “He's just, like, _accepting_ that I'll be totally useless for the next month. Which means that now I'm sort of sulking around the house while everyone pretends that I don't exist.”  
  
“Your mum's upset too?” Phil asked.  
  
“Not really,” he said. “She was more of a mediator during the whole thing.”  
  
Dan had a strong suspicion that her insistence on remaining calm was more out of fear that he'd divulge his proclivity for dating men in the heat of the moment than sensitivity on her part. It might have been an unfair assumption since she always had a natural diplomacy during household arguments, but there'd been something about the tension in her eyes and urgent glances that made Dan want to scream in frustration. He didn't see his sexuality as a fucking barb to throw out in an attempt to wound.  
  
Not that he had any intention of telling Phil about his botched attempt at coming out to his parents. It made his stomach turn to think about disappointing him again.  
  
“There are benefits to being fired.”  
  
Dan scoffed. “Yeah? Like not having any money to buy Christmas presents or maybe–”  
  
“Like the fact that train tickets cost the same amount whether you stay here for two days or a whole week.”  
  
Dan toed at a crack in the pavement until the ice turned to slush in the groove.  
  
“Is that an invitation?”  
  
“Well, if you wanted,” Phil answered in a rush. “You don't have to worry about getting back for work anymore. And we could get a start on filming our Christmas series.” There was a brief pause. “My parents will be away again.”  
  
“Subtle,” Dan said with a grin. “Had to get that last bit in there.”  
  
Phil laughed. “Thought it might help my case.”  
  
“When can I come?”  
  
“You're sure you'll be able?”  
  
“I'll figure something out. Text me the details.” Dan’s fingers were numb from cold even inside thick gloves. It'd be his luck to have his phone slip out of his hand and crack on the ground right about now. He started plodding forward again. “I've got to go though. I'm at Chloe's now.”  
  
Goodbyes always came with more than a bit of reluctance from Phil, which made Dan smile to himself as he hurried down the street and up Chloe’s steps. He was in arm's reach of the front door when his phone vibrated with a new text from her.  
  
_“don't come over yet. i need 10 min pls”_

Dan stared at his phone in disbelief. That was a quite a change from the last message where she'd begged him to stop by and rescue her from spending another moment alone with her parents. He hopped from one foot to the other before tugging his gloves off to type out a response.  
  
_“it's freezing and i'm already standing right_ – _”  
  
_ Dan's fingers stopped short as the front door opened.  
  
He looked up just in time to see the startled expression in Erica's brown eyes give way to unrestrained horror. He glanced over his shoulder with a stray hope that someone wielding an axe was hiding in Chloe's garden, but unfortunately they were alone. The color draining out of her cheeks at a worrying rate was definitely because of him.  
  
“Hi,” Dan forced out. “It's, um– so, you're back for the holidays too?”  
  
Erica stared down at the ground like she might be ill. “I guess now I know why Chloe was rushing me out.”  
  
“Oh, sorry, that's–” Dan felt himself flush. “Well, I guess it's good to know this wasn't an ambush.”  
  
It wouldn’t have been much of a surprise if Chloe had exaggerated her plight in an attempt to get him to rush over in time for Erica’s visit.  
  
“I didn't tell her that I was stopping by.” Erica turned her head to the side and laughed. “I'm only back for a few weeks.” She stepped around him as if to leave. “We can just, I don't know, be more careful.”  
  
There was a flutter of anxiety in Dan's chest as he watched her start to walk away. The last words she'd hurled at him before storming out were scratched raw with choked tears. In the rare moments where he'd imagined what it would be like to see her again, his vision of their conversation ranged from a continuation of her vitriol to heartfelt apologies and well wishes for the future.  
  
Never had he imagined that she'd sweep past him as if sharing the same airspace for more than a few seconds would poison her lungs.  
  
“Don't go,” Dan said. “Wait a minute.”  
  
There was an impenetrable wall between their memories and the present day. No part of Dan wanted to cross back, but it was still unbearable to think that he'd been reduced to a brush off.  
  
Erica turned around. “What for?” She stared somewhere over his left shoulder with one of her trademark expressions of utter disbelief as if the universe owed her a damn good explanation for why this was happening to her.  
  
Dan floundered for a moment. He hadn't expected her to agree to wait. “I mean, you don't want to tell me, like, how Bristol is?”  
  
“You want to know what Bristol’s like.” She repeated his words slowly with her arms folded tight across her chest. “You've been there.”  
  
“No, I meant, like, how are you doing these days?”  
  
“I'm good.” Erica sighed. “I'll go ahead and assume that you're good as well.” She leaned back against the porch railing and zipped her coat up to her chin. “We're both excited for the holidays and spending time with our family. And, _wow_ , it's cold out here, isn't it? We might even get snow tonight. Oh, and you look _great_. Have I covered all the pleasantries?”  
  
“Um, yeah.” Dan was hopelessly unprepared for her brusque sarcasm. “I think so.”  
  
“Glad that's out of the way.” Erica's eyes were guarded when she looked up to meet his gaze for the first time. “Go on and say whatever it is you want then.”  
  
“I don't know.”  
  
She laughed. “Great.”  
  
“I won't keep you standing out here,” Dan said. “I just wanted to– well, I guess that I'm torn between an apology and some, like, expression of gratitude.”  
  
“Okay.” Erica’s lips twitched in the first hint of a smile. “The gratitude sounds far more interesting.”  
  
Dan struggled to come up with anything sensible to say. He vacillated between all of his options, each one seeming more unhinged than the last.  
  
“Thank you,” he said, “for breaking up with me.”  
  
Every trace of levity left her face in an instant.  
  
“No problem,” she said icily. “That was the best night of my fucking life.” She pushed off the railing with the heel of her foot and pulled gloves out of her pocket. “Have a lovely afternoon, Dan.”  
  
“Shit,” Dan muttered. It sounded even _more_ unhinged now that the words were out in the open. “That's not how I meant it.”  
  
“How many different–”  
  
“I meant thank you for ending things before we _hated_ each other.” Dan ran a hand through his hair as he realized it was quite an assumption to make that she shared his feelings. “That is, of course, if you don't.”  
  
Erica adjusted the fingers of her gloves and pulled her scarf securely around her neck.  
  
“I don't.”  
  
“I'm glad,” Dan said. “That’s–”  
  
“But you fucking irritate me.”  
  
Dan let out a short laugh. “Fair enough.”  
  
“You only think about other people in relation to yourself.”  
  
“I _know_ and I'm–”  
  
“Don't apologize.” Erica held a hand up. “You think I enjoyed being the responsible one? You can’t force me into a position I never wanted and thank me for putting up with it.”  
  
The relief Dan felt at her anger made it clear that he was wrong before. _This_ was why he’d asked her to wait. It was more comfortable having her scream at him than withstanding the tension of her silence. The realization caused a fresh wave of guilt.  
  
He swallowed back his apology. It’s not like explaining would be helpful to her.  
  
“If you want to thank me,” she continued in a quieter tone, “it shouldn't be for that. You never told me how unhappy you were.”  
  
“I don't think I realized myself.”  
  
“Well, you could've told me _something_.”  
  
“You know that's got nothing to do with you.” Dan tried to keep the defeat he felt from seeping into his voice. It took passive aggression to a whole new level to goad someone into an argument and then try to make them feel sorry for you. “It's not like it's gotten any easier for me to, like, be open about things.”  
  
“I can believe that,” Erica said. “I didn't mean for that last night to go like it did.”  
  
“I'm the one who asked what I'd done wrong.”  
  
“Probably didn't expect such a thorough answer.”  
  
“I guess it was a long time coming.”  
  
“Trust me, it was.” Erica gave him a wry smile. “I almost called you a few weeks ago.”  
  
“You did?”  
  
She nodded. “I was up on Brandon Hill with some friends and we got to this bench and I swear, like, I _really_ think it was the Sid and Cassie bench.”  
  
“You mean the one from Skins?” Dan's phone buzzed with another notification. He shoved it into his pocket without looking.  
  
“Right. You know, the part at the end where she finally got his letter and they held hands.”  
  
“And you cried.”  
  
“Not as much as you.” Erica laughed. “None of the people with me had a clue what I was on about. I wanted to– anyway, it's stupid.”  
  
“It's not stupid.”  
  
Dan took a deep breath, hoping the cold air would clear his head. He could picture sitting on her sofa every Thursday night, trashing the improbable story lines while they waited for their show to begin and then watching in rapt silence once it started.  
  
Reminiscing was a dangerous idea.  
  
“I actually changed my mind because I couldn't stand the thought that the first thing we'd talk about in months was that stupid fucking show.” Erica hid her laugh behind a hand and pushed hair out of her eyes. “But I guess that's what I'm doing now anyway. God, this is ridiculous.”  
  
“You should've called,” Dan said. “I would have answered.”  
  
Erica gave him a steady look. “You might've been busy.”  
  
Dan's phone buzzed again.  
  
“That's probably Chloe.” She pointed to his pocket.  
  
“It's fine.”  
  
“Probably telling you it's safe to come over now.”  
  
“Have you seen what they did to her old bedroom?”  
  
“Yeah.” Erica frowned. “Have you?”  
  
“Not yet.”  
  
“She's sharing a guest room with one of her aunts,” Erica said. “Already threatening to go back to London if anyone makes another joke about her hair. Try to convince her to stay through Christmas morning at least, yeah?”  
  
Dan nodded, distracted. “Were the stickers still on the ceiling?”  
  
“They re-painted everything.” Erica shook her head. “You can still sort of see them.” Her voice was starting to shake the way it always did before she cried. “Like, if you know where to look.”  
  
“And did you–”  
  
“I really have to go.” She started to edge backwards.  
  
“Okay,” Dan said. “It was nice seeing you.”  
  
“That’s perfect.” Erica let out a dry laugh. “There _was_ one I'd forgotten.”  
  
She hopped down the steps and hurried away, heels clicking across the stone pathway in the garden before Dan could say anything else. He pulled out his phone to read the missed text messages from Chloe telling him to come straight up once he got there. There was no mention of Erica at all.  
  
Dan pushed the door open, resolved to steer the conversation in an innocent direction. It was uncharacteristic of Chloe to run interference the way she had. The least he could do was let her believe it'd worked.  


* * *

  
If there were several moments competing for the low point in Dan's month, it was balanced out by the solitary ray of light that was his visit to Phil's house. None of the guilt or shame or self-loathing introspection could outlast the wide grin he received from Phil when they met at the train station.  
  
Dan's mum had given the weakest display of curiosity when he told his parents that he'd be spending eight days in Manchester. If she was worried about what vulgar details he might share if she expressed interest, she needn't have worried.  
  
Phil’s agenda didn't seem to include anything that would get flagged on YouTube. He’d barely turned the camera off since Dan had arrived.  
  
“I don't think this is going to work.” Dan crouched in snow up to his ankles and gestured to the misshapen lump of slush he'd been trying to form into a ball for the past ten minutes. “It's not, like, clumping together. Should we rethink the snowman portion of the adventure?”  
  
Phil kneeled on the other side and tried to roll it forward. It didn't budge other than another glob of snow crumpling to the ground. “We're trying to make it too big. We could make miniature snowmen instead.”  
  
“No, the snow's just too wet.”  
  
Phil ignored him, sweeping the mess into three uneven snowballs that were small enough to rest in the palm of his hand. He stacked them together and gave Dan a triumphant look.  
  
Dan held up a carrot half the size of his forearm. “Don't you think the face is going to look a bit, I don't know–”  
  
“Out of proportion?”  
  
“I was going to say _fucked_ actually.”  
  
Phil laughed and grabbed it from his hand, snapping the end off so just the tip remained. “Solved.”  
  
“Oh god.” Dan took it from him with a laugh that echoed out into the night. “That’s horrifying.” He fixed the nub of carrot into the lowest section where he imagined the snowman's crotch would be.  
  
“Stop it.”  
  
Dan made sure it pointed up. “Look, he likes you.”  
  
“You're _ruining_ Christmas.” Phil tried to shove Dan's hands away as he fixed two tiny broken lumps of coal behind the carrot. “Those are meant to be eyes.” He laughed as Dan's fingers fought against him and finally shoved through the center of the snow, squashing it to pieces.  
  
“Oops.”  
  
“It's okay.” Phil laughed. “We’ll cut the snowman bit. I don't know how I was going to keep it frozen all week anyway.”  
  
Dan brushed his hands on his jeans. He watched as Phil lay down in the snow on his back, indifferent to the fact that he'd lost his hat hours ago and his clothes were getting drenched.  
  
“Aren't you cold?” Dan asked.  
  
“Yeah, but it's pretty. Come down here.”  
  
Dan lowered himself to his knees and awkwardly stretched out beside him. The thick coat and fuzzy hat protected most of him, but his jeans immediately felt like they'd turned to ice. He shivered, but fought back his complaints when Phil turned to him with a wide smile and hair flecked with snowflakes.  
  
“How many videos do we still have to film?” he asked instead.  
  
“About fifty more.”  
  
“Fuck.”  
  
Phil laughed. “I'll show you the storyboard later. It's epic.”  
  
“You always have to outdo yourself.”  
  
“Think you'll be able to come back for another visit before the holidays are over?” Phil asked. “We need my mum for a few of the clips.”  
  
“Yeah, sure,” Dan said. “As long as I'm home for Christmas day and all.”  
  
“Of course.” Phil looked back up at the sky with a sour expression. “Where do they think you're at right now anyway?”  
  
“What?” Dan asked, unsettled by the change in tone. “My parents?”  
  
“You never told me how you managed to get away for a full week.”  
  
“Right.” Dan’s laugh sounded tense even to his own ears. “I didn't lie this time.” He stared up at the sky, but trailed his hand over the ground until he found Phil’s hand in the snow. “I told them I was going to spend the week with you.”  
  
“Aren't you worried they’ll ask questions?”  
  
Dan turned his head to find Phil watching him carefully, his lips arched on one side in a hesitant grin.  
  
“No,” Dan said. “I came out to my mum, so there isn’t really–”  
  
“You _fucking_ didn't.” Phil was up in an instant, rolling on top of Dan with a playful shove to his shoulders. “Why didn't you tell me?” He tilted his head up and let out an exuberant laugh.  
  
Dan grinned up at him, delighted at his reaction. A whirl of snow fluttered down around them, blocking out the stars with flurries that glittered and faded to white as they passed streams of light from the lamps scattered around Phil’s garden.  
  
“It didn't quite go to plan,” he answered.  
  
Phil laughed again. “I don’t care about that. _Shit_ , that’s not– that sounded so insensitive.”  
  
“No, it’s fine.” Dan ran his fingers over Phil’s forehead to push away the hair falling into his eyes. “It wasn’t, like, traumatic. I just thought maybe I should wait until things were more settled so you'd know I was serious about this.”  
  
“That doesn't– I mean, you didn't tell them because of _me_ , did you?”  
  
Dan stared up into Phil's eyes, sparkling with excitement and anticipation. There was no way to guess which answer was the _right_ one. It didn't make any sense to try. Dan always tried to figure out what response a person wanted before he worked out what the truth might be. It'd never gotten him anywhere good.  
  
The truth was messy and confusing. It was uncontrolled and that was terrifying, but maybe the unpleasant spike of fear was evidence that Dan was finally going in the right direction. Maybe this wasn’t supposed to be easy.  
  
“Not exactly.” Dan felt a twist in his gut at the risk he was taking. “Our conversation might have motivated me to get on with it, but I told her because– well, _shit_.” He took a deep breath and huffed it out with an impatient laugh. “I don't want to hide the best thing in my life. I told her because I finally realized that it's stupid to not let myself say it.”  
  
Phil's eyes were glossy but he stared down at him with a look of expectancy. His fingers were curled around Dan’s shoulders tight enough to hurt.  
  
“I told her because I'm in love with you,” he whispered, “and I don't want there to be any confusion on that point anymore.”  
  
Dan had more reasons but they would have to wait. There was only a moment’s pause before Phil rushed forward and pressed their lips together with a quiet gasp of surprise. There was no telling whether the noise was a reaction to Dan's words or his own impulsive action, but the sound reverberated in Dan's mind like a sweet echo of his own desperation. He reached up to grasp the back of Phil's neck but wasn't fast enough before he was pulling away.  
  
“Fuck, sorry.” Phil tried to push himself up. The trembling in his hands made it difficult to find purchase on the ground. “Sorry.”  
  
“Don't apologize.” Dan curled his hands in the back of Phil's collar to keep him from moving. “Is that, like, the reward I get for bravery?”  
  
“What if it was?”  
  
“I'd find a grizzly bear to fight.”  
  
Phil let out a breathless laugh but fell silent when Dan's hands moved from his back down the front of his coat and began to unzip it.  
  
“Are you seriously taking my clothes off when we're lying in snow?”  
  
“Maybe I'm trying to burrow inside.” Dan’s fingers moved over his skin, savoring the warmth and gentle shudders. All of his muscles were tensed with the need to be closer. “Don't you want to keep me warm?”  
  
Phil twisted away and sat up. “Don't do that.”  
  
“What?” Dan pushed onto his elbows.  
  
“That, like, flirty thing where your voice goes soft.” Phil brushed snow off both of them and helped Dan to his feet. “Where you say whatever you think sounds sexy.”  
  
Dan flinched. “Okay, _fuck_. If you don’t–”  
  
Phil stepped closer. “You're sexy when you don't try. When I know it’s you talking and not, like, something you think sounds good.” He slipped his hands around Dan's waist and leaned in so their lips almost touched. “Promise me you won't do anything you don't want.”  
  
“Yeah.” Dan nodded, straining closer. “I won't.”  
  
“Or, I don't know, say you're okay with something when you're not sure.”  
  
“I promise.”  
  
Phil pulled away with a sly smile. “Let's go inside.”  
  
Dan groaned. “You're a fucking tease.”  
  
“I didn’t know you had a frostbite fetish.” Phil grabbed Dan's hand and tugged him along the path. “And while I doubt any of my neighbors actively spy on me, there's no reason to test out that theory.”  
  
The warmth of Phil's house was suffocating when they stepped inside, tugging off scarves and dropping drenched coats on the floor as they stumbled their way upstairs. Dan's jeans were even harder to get off when they were wet, but he managed to shed them and pull his jumper over his head as they got to the landing outside Phil's bedroom door.  
  
He stood there, naked except for his boxers, and leaned back against the wall. His heart was pounding and his whole body trembled. There was a steady drip of water running down the back of his neck and normally he’d be self-conscious about the way his hair curled and stuck to his forehead, but the unconcealed desire in Phil's eyes was enough to soothe his worries.  
  
“Come here,” Dan said in a quiet voice.  
  
Phil obliged without hesitation, stepping forward and sliding his hands over Dan's hips and thighs as he pushed him against the wall.  
  
Dan wrapped his arms around Phil's neck and kissed him, open-mouthed and clumsy with desperation, until Phil guided him into a tempered pace. He whimpered when he felt Phil's tongue lick a stripe over the roof of his mouth before pulling away to gasp for air.  
  
“Is this–”  
  
“Please,” Dan begged. “Don't stop to ask what I want or if I'm anxious or make sure I’m okay. Please just– don't even ask if what you're doing is– can't we just– can't we–”  
  
“You don't want me to ask if you're okay with what we're doing?” Phil broke off with a helpless gesture.  
  
Dan could hear how unreasonable it sounded, but that didn’t stop him from pressing on with blind hope.  
  
“It's just, like, I get so– it makes me freeze up. I won't– I promise I won't try to do anything just to impress you this time.” Dan swallowed and pushed his hips into Phil's until a warm sensation flooded his stomach. “It makes me overthink everything and then you get all– and, _god_ , I want this so much.”  
  
It was a surprise when Phil didn't immediately refuse. He cast a distressed glance at the ceiling before meeting Dan's eyes. “There's only one way I'm agreeing to that.”  
  
Phil turned so their positions were reversed. He slid his palms flat against the wall, leaning back against it and waiting. Dan stepped forward and placed his hands against his chest.  
  
“Are you saying–”  
  
“Just, like, you have to set the pace if that’s what you want.” Phil let out a slow, faltering breath. “I’m not going to do something you don’t want.”  
  
Dan slid his hands down to the top of Phil's boxers. “What if I do?”  
  
“Then I'd ask you to stop,” Phil said hoarsely.  
  
Dan pushed Phil’s boxers down so they fell around his ankles and watched, entranced, as his eyes fluttered shut. The back of his head hit the wall with a thud when Dan wrapped his palm around him and stroked his fingers over his cock until it grew heavy and full in his hand. Dan repeated the movement again and then again without thinking, helplessly mesmerized by every reaction as Phil's cock twitched and left a wet trail on his palm.  
  
He reached up and touched a finger to Phil’s lips, full and bitten raw, but still soft when he leaned in and pressed against them with his own.  
  
It might have been possible to keep going forever, mouths sliding together in tentative brushes and gentle nips, except for the increasing ache in Dan’s cock that was becoming impossible to ignore.  
  
“Can we get in your bed?” he asked.  
  
Phil nodded and followed him as if in a daze. His lips were still parted as if he hadn't quite grasped that Dan's mouth was gone.  
  
Dan guided Phil onto his back and pushed his knees up, parting his legs and settling between them before letting his eyes trail from where his cock strained against his stomach to the way his chest rose and fell with every rapid breath to his desperate, wild eyes. Dan met them and let every bit of insecurity and anxiety show in his own.  
  
“I've never done this before.”  
  
Phil's eyes softened. “I know.”  
  
Dan nodded and leaned down, overwhelmed and intimidated, but still so hard that it hurt. He took a breath before closing his eyes and licking up the base of Phil's cock, following the bulging vein to the tip.  
  
The sound of Phil's whimpers was more than enough to spur him on. He experimented with different techniques, sucking the head into his mouth and licking it before pulling off and sliding just his lips against him. The sharp cry of _“fuck, Dan, yes”_ that he got when he guided Phil's cock deeper into his mouth to rub against the inside of his cheek made heat build in his stomach and shivers run down his back.  
  
Dan sat up on his knees to pull his boxers off and drop them off the side of the bed. He climbed on top of Phil, not knowing exactly what he was doing, but just needing to touch him. He let his hands roam over Phil's body. They were followed by his lips pressing hot, wet kisses onto his stomach and up to his neck.  
  
A rush of affection went through him as he watched Phil’s hands clench the sheets until his knuckles were white. He allowed Dan to set a tortuously slow pace and responded eagerly to his every clumsy caress, and _still_ refused to so much as touch him without explicit permission.  
  
It was more than he could handle. “Please, oh god, _please_.” Dan closed his eyes and began to grind down onto Phil in a maddening way that wasn't nearly enough to satisfy. “Can you– like we did before?” Fantasies were flashing through his mind at warp speed, but he’d promised that he wouldn’t do anything unless he was absolutely sure. There was no way he was breaking it.  
  
Phil nodded. “Yeah.” He grabbed Dan's hips to still him and then began to push up in a way that made Dan’s jaw drop open and tremors move through his body in waves. He writhed against him, trying to match Phil’s tempo as he took both of their cocks in his hand.  
  
“God, yes, _yes_ , keep doing that, please,” Dan babbled, partially to alleviate any lingering doubts Phil might have but mostly because he couldn't hold back. He was panting desperate pleas in Phil's ear.  
  
Pressure was building in aching throbs of pleasure and he was so close, probably seconds away from coming, when Phil tensed with a violent shudder and moans that verged on a sob. Dan gripped his shoulders, hands opening and closing almost convulsively, as he tried to force himself over the edge.  
  
He bit his lip when he felt Phil's palm, still trembling from his own climax, wrap back around him and draw him closer with long, firm strokes. He teetered on the cusp, back arched, until he heard Phil's voice.  
  
“Jesus,” he said in a cracked whisper. “Looking at you makes me think I could come all over again.”  
  
Dan squeezed his eyes shut, a scream building in his throat as he came harder than he ever had. He canted his hips up, fucking into Phil's hand and murmuring _please_ and _yes_ and _Phil_ in a desperate stream until the words ran together and he flopped over, forehead pressed to Phil's chest and mouth leaving a trail of faint kisses over his skin.  
  
“Fuck,” Dan breathed.  
  
Phil let out a soft groan of agreement.  
  
The off-putting stickiness and stench of sweat was all it took to coax Dan into a joint shower when Phil suggested it. His legs had turned to jelly and his brain wasn't in much better shape, but Phil kept him standing upright under the water.  
  
“I wish this was how things had started for us,” Dan said in a quiet voice. “Like, a normal couple.”  
  
“Yeah.” Phil smoothed his hands over Dan’s back. “Me too.”  
  
“I feel like I made a mess of things.”  
  
“It's not so bad, is it?” Phil asked. “It got us here.”  
  
Dan let his chin rest on Phil's shoulder, luxuriating in the warm steam and clean scent of soap and gentle feeling of fingers running over his skin. That much was true. Here was a good place to be.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter spoils the end of [Interactive Christmas Adventure](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TYAduObhsb0). Is it possible to spoil a video that's been up for five years? I don't know. I like being polite.

It was the middle of January when Dan finally tested out the word “boyfriend” with Phil after tasting it on the tip of his tongue for weeks.  
  
“Your birthday’s coming up,” he said, apropos of nothing, during one of their nightly Skype calls.  
  
Phil raised an eyebrow at the turn in conversation but remained silent as he lazily unfastened the buttons on his shirt. Dan followed Phil's fingers with his eyes and synchronized his breathing to the slow unveiling of skin to keep himself from panting in anticipation.  
  
Overexcitement was easily confused with apprehension.  
  
“You haven't mentioned it,” Dan continued in a steady tone, “but I've got _so_ many ideas.”  
  
“You don't have to get me anything.”  
  
“I want to though.”  
  
He'd insisted that the soul-destroying tedium of adding in hundreds of annotations to their Christmas adventure series would be his responsibility alone to make up for the fact that he hadn’t been able to afford a proper Christmas present. It'd taken hours to link all of the videos together and battle through processing glitches in order to get it uploaded before the holidays were over.  
  
Not exactly how he'd wanted to spend his last week of freedom before being trapped in a law office for eight hours each day, but the sacrifice was more than worth it when the view count continued to rise well into the new year.  
  
“Anyway I figure if I never get to see you anymore, at least the benefit is I'm getting paid again, you know?” Dan rambled as he got his jeans unzipped. His laptop was angled so his webcam only captured above his waist, but it still made a heated flush spread in his chest. “Not that it makes up for it.”  
  
He let out a sigh that verged on reverent as he watched Phil undo the last button and sit back to ruffle his hair. Maybe he'd send clothes in his boxful of birthday gifts and ask him to open it on camera. There could be an endless cycle of dressing and undressing as he tried them on piece by piece.  
  
“Wish I was there right now.” Dan trailed a finger teasingly down his neck and chest before reaching the front of his pants.  
  
It was sometimes a slow transition from flirtatious baiting to actually stripping off clothes, but talking usually helped. Even when he didn’t have anything in particular to say, it was better than falling quiet and watching Phil get nervous over whether he’d taken things too far.  
  
“You could just ship yourself here. Wake up to a giant box beside my bed and then you step out.”  
  
“Wearing nothing but a red bow on my arse?” Dan asked.  
  
“Why obscure the view? Just, like, stick it on your shoulder.” Phil grinned as he slid his shirt off his shoulders. “Seriously though, you don't have to worry about it.”  
  
“I'm not worried. I've never bought a present for a boyfriend before.” He gave a nervous laugh and graceless wink in case Phil found the term ill-matched to his own definition of their relationship. “It’s, you know– I'm excited.”  
  
“Okay.” Phil leaned back against his pillows as his hands dropped out of frame. “I'm not going to keep complaining then.”  
  
Dan felt giddy. The fact that his stuttering hadn’t put Phil off was possibly more reassuring than how he took the label for their relationship in stride. There wasn’t much time for internal celebration before Phil closed his eyes with a low, satisfied noise that went straight to Dan’s cock. All thoughts left his brain save for one.  
  
He really wanted to watch Phil getting off.  
  
“Could you maybe–” Dan paused, throat dry and heart racing.  
  
Phil stopped moving and looked at him expectantly. “Yeah?”  
  
Dan shook his head.  
  
“What did you want?” Phil asked softly. His pale wrist slowly disappeared out of frame again.  
  
“Jesus.” Dan swallowed and pushed his shirt up until his fingers were brushing his neck, trembling against his pulse point. “God, are you– I want to see your hands.”  
  
Phil let out a shaky breath and got up on his knees. Dan bit down on his lip to subdue a moan.  
  
It turned out he _could_ say what he wanted after all.  


* * *

  
Checking video statistics was an egocentric indulgence that made Dan’s cheeks burn with embarrassment even when he was alone in his room. He’d become addicted ever since uploading their Christmas series and found himself checking multiple times each day. Seeing a jump in numbers always made the slow drag of hours more bearable as he clawed his way through each day of his work experience.  
  
Maybe _technically_ it was Phil's project, but it was still the best thing Dan had ever created.  
  
“Oh my god. What is this?” Chloe squealed and slapped his knee as they reached the final showdown. “This can't be the end. You're just going to _die_?”  
  
Dan couldn't hold back a delighted smile. Fuck technicalities. This video was his goddamn opus.  
  
“Now you’re upset?” he asked. “You've killed me off ten times.”  
  
That was probably because Dan had encouraged her to take the most circuitous route possible before getting to the end, but he still wasn't going to let it slide.  
  
“Those were _fake_ deaths. This one's really the end,” she whined.  
  
Chloe shoved at his shoulder and he sank down onto his elbows to escape her swinging range. Her playful ribbing edged towards violence after her second drink. They'd already worked their way through nearly two bottles of wine as they sat on her lounge floor with her laptop cradled between them.  
  
“It had to be done,” he said. “We needed a martyr.”  
  
“Wow. That’s some epic music.” Chloe wiped teary eyes on her sleeve as she wheezed through her giggles. “Not sure your death warrants it.”  
  
Dan's returning laughter made his head swim. “Oh no, it's happening. Cover your eyes if you want.” He started to cheer and threw his arms up in the air as the final moments played out. “We just saved Christmas. Let's try for some enthusiasm.”  
  
“We _saved_ Christmas!” Chloe grabbed the bottle of wine and hoisted it into the air. “Dan Howell, they're calling you a savior of plush toys.” She held it up to his mouth like a microphone. “How do you respond to these claims?”  
  
“Well, it's tough.” He grabbed the bottle from her and tipped back another sip. “All those little bears and lions counting on you.”  
  
“A lot of pressure?”  
  
“You wouldn't _fucking_ believe.”  
  
There was a loud slamming as the lounge door closed. Dan turned his head but didn't catch which one of Chloe's flatmates had finally gotten fed up with their boisterous noise.  
  
“Sorry,” Dan mock whispered with a hand cupped around his mouth.  
  
“Don't worry about it. Everyone’s ready to claw someone's eyes out lately.” Chloe turned back to the screen. “I get a prize? Fuck, don't tell me I have to click on every one of these.”  
  
“Maybe later.” Dan hauled himself off the floor with a bit of effort and sprawled out on her futon. “That's the end though.” He let his head rest on his arms as he waited for her reaction. “What'd you think?”  
  
Chloe rolled her eyes. “It's unattractive to beg for compliments.”  
  
“I worked hard.” Dan tried to kick her but missed. “Come on.”  
  
“Go look at twitter if you need to feed your ego. I'm supposed to help you revise, yeah?”  
  
“I’m too sleepy.” Dan closed his eyes and buried his face into a pillow as he groaned. “Right. Psychology. Quiz me.”  
  
“I don’t know.” Chloe stood up and staggered across the lounge to curl up in an armchair. She seemed about as enthusiastic as he felt. “What the fuck do I remember about psychology? Okay. Pavlov?”  
  
“Too easy.”  
  
“Go on then.”  
  
“Pavlov. Classical conditioning.” Dan arched his back in a delightfully aching stretch as he yawned. “What happens to my dick every time I hear an incoming Skype call.”  
  
There was a choked gasp followed by a loud sputtering cough. Dan cracked his eyes open enough to see wine dribble down Chloe's chin as she waved both hands in front of her as if warding off demonic energy.  
  
“Gross,” he said.  
  
“You're one to fucking talk.” She swiped at her mouth with the back of her hand and gave a dramatic shudder. “Please don't mention your dick in my presence.”  
  
Dan laughed. “It was a valid example though.”  
  
“You're disgusting.” Chloe waved the bottle of wine in his direction. “And you're one half-arsed metaphor away from being cut off.”  
  
“That wasn't even a metaphor, it was–” Dan rolled onto his back and circled a hand in the air as if the right words were floating above him and he might be able to capture one. “I don't know. Forget it.”  
  
It was probably time to steer the conversation into less treacherous territory anyway. The lines between fact and fiction were starting to blur in his mind whenever he talked about Phil and it was hard enough to keep track of everything when he was sober. He squinted up at the ceiling and nodded dazedly as Chloe started talking about test scores and university decisions and everything else that made his blood pressure spike these days. Only a few minutes passed before he felt himself start to drift.  
  
“ _Dan._ Are you sleeping?”  
  
“No.” He forced his eyes back open and tried to look attentive. “Definitely not. What'd you ask?”  
  
Chloe sighed. “You're useless. I was asking about Manchester.”  
  
“Oh, that.” Dan allowed his eyes to slam shut again. “You know I’m not in yet.”  
  
It'd become his new stalling point. As soon as he knew where he was going next year, he would start doing things again. Tell his dad about Phil. Invite Phil down to meet his parents. Attempt an explanation about YouTube and confess how he'd been spending most of his free time over the past few months.  
  
“They still don't know about YouTube?” Chloe asked.  
  
Dan pressed a pillow to his face to muffle any more words that might slip out. He’d definitely left tipsy behind for full-out drunk when the filter between his thoughts and voice disappeared.  
  
“Not yet.”  
  
Chloe laughed. “They're going to find out when girls start hurling knickers at you in the street.”  
  
“Fuck off.” Dan threw the pillow in her direction. It landed on the floor.  
  
“They know about Phil though, right?”  
  
“Only my mum does but– _what_?” Dan broke off at her incredulous sidelong glance. He pointed at her accusingly. “You of all people are giving me that look? When have you ever told your parents anything about your life?”  
  
“I didn’t say anything.”  
  
“But I mean, tell me. What would you actually do?” Dan let his head hang over the side of the futon to look at her. “Like, if you were me. Would you come out to your parents or–”  
  
“Yeah, no,” Chloe yawned the words as she pulled her knees up and rested her chin on them. “I'd definitely– well, I don't know. Maybe I wouldn't come out to them but I wouldn't lie either.”  
  
Dan scoffed. “Is that an option?”  
  
“Why not?” Chloe nodded. “Like, what if you– you don't have to sit down with the whole 'I'm bisexual' speech if you don't want to do that. Maybe just start calling Phil your boyfriend and skip over that part.”  
  
“That doesn't–” Dan stared at her. “You know that'd still be coming out in a way, right? If I tell him that I'm dating Phil, he's probably going to figure out I'm not straight.”  
  
“Oh.” Chloe frowned. “Aren’t you just coming out the rest of your life then? You're never really just, like, _out_ then?”  
  
“How d'you mean?”  
  
“There's always going to be new people to tell.”  
  
“Exactly.” Dan nearly rolled onto the floor with the force he used to throw his arms out in dramatic appeal. “That's– I know, that's my _whole_ point. Doesn't it all seem sort of absurd? I'm never going to be that person, you know, the one who announces to everyone in the fucking queue that the flowers I'm buying are for my boyfriend. If that's not– what's the use really?”  
  
“No, you're– are you serious?” Chloe laughed. “I wasn’t saying that. You're comparing your dad to some stranger in queue?”  
  
“You tell me then.” Dan felt sulky and a bit queasy at the direction the conversation was going. It always seemed to circle back to honesty, as if everyone else knew where the acceptable boundaries were except him. “If you've got it all figured out.”  
  
“I’m not saying that I do.” Chloe waved a hand in his direction. “Everyone gets to decide which people are important enough to tell. I think for you though, I mean, doesn't that include your family?”  
  
“Why does it have to include anyone?” Dan asked. “Why does it have to be more than just me and him?”  
  
“So, like, you two just fucking exist in your own little world.” Chloe wrinkled her nose. “That sounds healthy.”  
  
“Healthy,” he repeated. “Right. That’s what Phil says too. He dated this guy before and it sounds like– I don’t know, it’s important to him, you know, honesty.”  
  
“Well, yeah,” Chloe said. “Secrets are, like, completely toxic to relationships.”  
  
Dan tried to wrap his mind around what she was saying. “I don’t want that.”  
  
There was definitely something floating right out of his grasp. It made him wish he had the fortitude to talk about this before losing half of his coherency. It felt important. Something about balance, probably, and trust.  
  
Not keeping secrets from people you love. _Secrets_. Like the ones he’d been keeping from Phil for months.  
  
“ _Shit_.” Dan sat up so quickly that Chloe jerked upright and stared at him with wide eyes. “I'm a fucking idiot. This is– I've got to–”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I'm going to do it,” Dan shouted with all of the bravado contained in a bottle of wine. “I'll tell him right now if you– where's my fucking phone?” He grappled his hands around the floor until he found where it'd fallen.  
  
Chloe crossed the room to sit beside him and swatted at his hands while making loud shushing noises. “Fuck's sake, Dan. They're all going to murder me.”  
  
Dan scrolled through his contacts but Chloe grabbed it from his hand. “Give it back. I'm having, like, a fucking epiphany.”  
  
Chloe laughed but her eyes were concerned enough that Dan stopped fighting against her. He let go and tried to give her a confident look. Digging his heels in like a child wasn’t going to get him anywhere and he was filled with a sense of urgency that he had to fix things _now_ or he’d never be able to do it.  
  
“I'm not letting you ring your dad while–”  
  
“Not him,” Dan said. “Phil. I need to explain something.”  
  
“Oh, you meant– but it's late.”  
  
Dan glanced at her clock. It was close to midnight. “He's used to me calling late.”  
  
“Okay.” Chloe still looked uncertain. “Well, he's your boyfriend.”  
  
“Yeah, he is.” Dan nodded. He probably wasn’t even lying to her. Maybe. “My boyfriend, that is.”  
  
Chloe reluctantly handed the phone back to him. “You better not have the same reaction as you do to Skype calls, Pavlov.”  
  
Dan couldn’t think of a reply before the phone was ringing, so he put a hand up and settled for glaring. Chloe reached over his shoulder and hit the speaker button.  
  
It took three tries before Phil picked up with a confused greeting.  
  
“Phil.” Dan cleared his throat and tried not to slur. “Hi, Phil. This is Dan.”  
  
“Yeah, I, uh, figured.”  
  
“I'm here too,” Chloe said with a laugh. “Dan's totally pissed and forced me to let him call you. This is under duress, I swear.”  
  
“Oh, that's okay.” Phil's voice was raw and feeble. Maybe they _had_ woken him up. “Don't you have work tomorrow?”  
  
“Yeah, but that's not–” Dan shook his head and the phone slipped from his hand. “Fuck. I dropped you.”  
  
Chloe picked it up and held it for him.  
  
“Dan?” Phil asked. “You there?”  
  
“I'm– yeah, it's me. It's Dan. I had to tell you something.” Dan closed his eyes. It was easier to concentrate if he couldn't see Chloe's bright pink face swimming in front of him. “I had, like, a total epiphany a few minutes ago.”  
  
“Okay?” Phil's laughter was the prettiest sound Dan had ever heard. “What is it?”  
  
“Secrets,” Dan said breathlessly. “It's all about honesty, right? Keeping secrets is lying. That's not– but we shouldn't lie to each other.”  
  
“Okay. I don't really–”  
  
“Because you're my boyfriend, right? You are,” Dan insisted. “If we're together now, then I need to tell you that I never– back when it all started, I never meant–” He looked up to see Chloe's eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “What's wrong? Sorry, Phil, that wasn't to you.”  
  
Chloe set the phone down on the futon and touched his arm. “Dan, you're shouting. Calm down.”  
  
“Dan?” Phil's voice was firmer than before. “Dan? Aren't you tired?”  
  
He shook his head. “No.”  
  
“I think you should go to sleep.”  
  
“No, I'm–” Dan sighed in defeat. No one wanted to listen to him. “Maybe. Okay. I'll just– I'll explain tomorrow, okay? I love you. You know that, right? I love you.”  
  
“I– yeah, I know that.”  
  
“Bye.”  
  
Dan wanted to stay awake and tell Phil that he loved him some more. It’d felt nice saying it, but a tiny spark of self-preservation made him think better. He curled up on the futon and watched as Chloe picked up his phone and pressed it to her ear. Her hushed whisper was too low for him to follow, but protesting seemed too much effort.  
  
His eyelids _did_ feel like cement. It was a relief to stop fighting against them.  


* * *

  
The actual epiphany came the following morning with a wince of regret and mouthful of antacid: Dan was a fucking idiot.  
  
It was cruel that despite the amount of alcohol he’d consumed, he was left with vivid memories burned into his brain. His careless words and Phil's lukewarm reaction played on an endless loop over breakfast the next morning.  
  
“Do you want me to make you something else?” Chloe asked.  
  
Dan shook his head and broke his toast apart into crumbs. “My stomach isn't really–”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Thanks though.”  
  
Chloe seemed to have taken his ramblings as drunken nonsense. Either that or Phil had done some damage control after he'd fallen asleep. He cringed at either thought.  
  
“You should ring Phil today,” Chloe said as if reading his mind. “He didn't sound himself last night.”  
  
Dan broke off a miniscule corner of crust and let it dissolve on his tongue. Probably not. It was one thing to casually drop words like _boyfriend_ and _love_ into their private conversations. It was another to wake Phil up in the middle of the night and practically demand that he reciprocate in front of an audience.  
  
“You'd tell me if there was something going on, right?” Chloe asked. “If there was something wrong, I mean.”  
  
“Sure.” Dan dropped his face into his hands. “I've got a fucking hangover.”  
  
“Okay.” Chloe blew the steam off the top of her mug and set it down without taking a sip.  
  
There wasn't much time to answer her questions even if Dan _hadn't_ woken up with the firm resolution that honesty was the root of all evil and secrets were the glue keeping his personal world together. She had a morning class and he had an exciting day of filing waiting for him.  
  
His tongue was thick and pasty in his mouth even after drinking enough water to make his stomach slosh uncomfortably with every step on his way to work. Staying in London overnight should have made the trip shorter, but it took him as much time as it usually did between the lurching in his stomach and pounding headache.  
  
The espresso machine was busy by the time he arrived, but it made Dan's stomach roll over to think about consuming anything else. He made a beeline straight for the haphazard crowd and pulled out his phone while he waited.  
  
It took a dozen attempts before he settled on words that still didn't feel right.  
  
_“sorry about last night. it was rude to call. are we ok?_ ”  
  
Dan erased the last three words and then added them back.  
  
A man nudged his arm. “Your turn.”  
  
“Sorry.” Dan looked up to see the crowd had mostly dispersed while he was lost in his thoughts. “Thanks.”  
  
He sent the message without reading it again.  


* * *

  
There was no response when Dan finally let himself check on his mid-morning break. It took fifteen minutes of sitting on the floor of the file room and staring blankly at his phone before he was sure that he wouldn’t cry.  
  
He stared at it again during lunch. It sat on the table in front of him, heartless and unresponsive, as he ate crisps from the vending machine and fought down his nausea. He sent a second apology before heading back upstairs, but it went ignored.  
  
Dan was edging towards panic by the time he dialed Phil’s number on his walk to the bus after a long day of getting absolutely no work accomplished. He cursed when voicemail picked up.  
  
“Hey. It's me.” Dan's mind went blank. He hadn't rehearsed anything to say and there were people on all sides of him that might overhear. “I'm guessing you might– well, you’re probably mad at me? You've every right to be.” He dropped his voice. “If you could just call me back, like, even if it's to scream at me. That would be– well, not that you should have to make this easier on me after– god, just _please_ call me back.”  
  
It wasn't until he was home and in the shower, hoping the hot water would beat some of the tension out of his body, that he finally heard the blessed sound of Phil calling him.  
  
He nearly broke his neck getting to it before it stopped ringing.  
  
“Phil?”  
  
“Yeah, it's me. I literally _just_ got your messages.” Phil stopped to inhale as if the words had taken up all his breath. “Sorry. I’m in hospital.”  
  
Dan froze with a towel in his hand and shampoo suds dripping down his neck.  
  
“Fuck, are you– what's wrong? Are you okay?”  
  
“I'm fine, yeah. Honestly, I'm already loads better.”  
  
“What happened?”  
  
“Lost vision yesterday. I've been here since then.” Phil sounded sheepish, as if it was an embarrassing confession for _him_ that Dan hadn't even realized he was ill when he called last night. “They've got me on new medicine for migraines now though, so it’s fine. I'm going to be home soon. Just didn't think I should wait to call you back when I heard your–”  
  
“No, don't– please.” Dan sopped up as much water and soap residue from his skin as he could manage and wrapped the towel around his waist. “Don't worry about that. I was being–”  
  
“Drunk?”  
  
“–paranoid, I guess.” Dan laughed weakly. “Yeah, that too. I meant today though.”  
  
“I'm sorry you thought I was angry or something, like, that was really bad timing,” Phil said. “I've been asleep all day. They put me on some massive pain killers that knocked me out.”  
  
“Yeah, you still sound a little, I don't know.” _Not yourself.  
  
_ It actually shocked Dan what a colossal idiot he was. Even Chloe had noticed more than he had and she’d been drinking too.  
  
“There was something I wanted to ask.”  
  
“Yeah?” Dan peeked down the hallway to make sure it was empty before heading to his bedroom. “What's that?” He sank into his desk chair, ignoring the puddle that was forming at his feet.  
  
“Have you been– I mean, I know you were drunk last night, but did you want to make things, like, official?” Phil asked. “Have you been waiting for that?”  
  
Every instinct Dan had screamed for him to deny it. He had too many strikes against him right now. There was the humiliation of last night coupled with his self-obsessed assumption that Phil's illness was actually a type of passive aggressive anger directed his way. It felt unsafe to admit anything.  
  
Dan sighed.  “Yeah, I have.” He watched his hand tremble against the desk as if it were happening to someone else. “I mean, that's– I should have said something, right?”  
  
“Maybe we both should have,” Phil said. “I've considered us, like, _together_ since that day in the snow.”  
  
“You have?”  
  
“Since you told me– and I know that I didn't say it back.” Phil paused to release a slow breath. There was a shaky, raw undertone to his voice that made it even lower than usual. “But I feel the same way, you know? Or I guess maybe you don't since– well, right. I feel the same way you do. I should have said it before. I'm in love with you too.”  
  
“Do you know what you’re saying?” Dan asked. “How much medication are you on again?”   
  
“Quite a lot, actually.” Phil laughed.  
  
“I'm not going to believe anything you say right now.”  
  
“Okay," Phil answered as if on cue. “I'll say it tomorrow then.”  
  
Dan tried to think of something teasing or sarcastic.  
  
He couldn't manage anything other than utterly, _stupidly_ happy. It felt like his face might crack with the force of his a smile.   
  
“I hope so.”


	14. Chapter 14

Dan clicked on the university admissions website out of habit.  
  
It'd become a standard part of his daily rotation, slotted between checking Skype to see if Phil was online and scrolling through twitter. He typed out the password by muscle memory alone before casting a quick glance at the list of universities he'd seen a hundred times already.   
  
Dan froze. His fingers hovered above the keyboard in a halted attempt to switch tabs.   
  
The word "unconditional" was added beside University of Manchester.   
  
Dan stared at the word in a daze. _Unconditional._ It hadn't been there when he'd checked an hour ago.   
  
"Mum?" He unplugged his laptop as he scrambled off his bed. "Where are you?"   
  
"In here!"   
  
Dan followed her answered shout down the hall with his laptop still open in his hands. He hit his shoulder against the doorframe of his parents' bedroom because he couldn't tear his eyes away. He'd assumed that he would call Phil the moment he heard anything, but found that he needed another human to confirm what he was reading now that the moment was here. It felt too good to be true.   
  
"Mum, you've got to-"   
  
"Why are you two _screaming_?"   
  
"-see this." Dan's eyes flicked up when he heard the voice behind him. In his shock, he'd forgotten that his father was even home. "Sorry."   
  
His dad huffed as he walked around him and stood beside two open suitcases on the bed.   
  
"Are you done packing yet?" His mum's hair was pulled into a sloppy bun on the top of her head. She adjusted it and ran a hand over her face.   
  
Dan hadn't actually started, but he shrugged a tentative agreement anyway. It was another day before they left for India. Still plenty of time to remember where his passport had gone.   
  
"Yeah, almost. Look." Dan set his laptop on the bed. "I checked my uni status and-"   
  
His mum gasped. "What's it say?"   
  
"Yeah, it's- don't worry. It's good news." Dan tripped over the words as his parents stared at him with matching expressions of eagerness. "It says 'unconditional' so I guess that means I got in."   
  
There was a beat of silence before the jubilation hit. His parents shouted with their hands raised above their heads in a mirror image of each other. Dan laughed as their celebratory shouts overlapped. It was truly sickening how often they unintentionally fell in sync with one another.   
  
Dan's mum kissed him on the cheek while his dad pulled glasses out of his shirt pocket and peered down at the laptop.   
  
"Manchester University?" He turned back to Dan with a grin.   
  
"Yeah," Dan said. "Great, right?"   
  
His mum's excitement dimmed by a fraction. Dan watched her carefully. There was a slight unsteadiness in her smile and tightness around her eyes. It was a subtle reaction that no one would notice if they weren't waiting for it.   
  
"What's wrong?" His dad frowned at her. "It's a good school."   
  
Or all it took was someone who'd known her for the past few decades. Dan couldn't help but smile.   
  
"It's a _great_ school," she agreed.   
  
Dan stared at his father with adrenaline-fueled boldness, studying the way his confusion relaxed into resignation. It was unsurprising that he wasn't going to push this. Anything potentially divisive couldn't be worth pursuing. That was the rule in their family.   
  
"Are you worried?" Dan asked.   
  
His mum wiped fingers along the edge of her eye to collect a stray tear without smudging her make up. "That's my job, isn't it? Worrying about you." She gave him a weak smile. "Of course, I'm so happy."   
  
"What're you worried for?" his dad asked. "He'll do fine."   
  
The small vote of confidence was all it took for Dan to make a decision. He forced his hands to unclench and wiped his palms down his jeans as he met his dad's eyes.   
  
Maybe part of authenticity was learning to accept that there was no way to control another person's reaction. There was no script to follow that would ensure their family came out unscathed. It was a hard truth to accept.   
  
"I think maybe she's worried because that's where my boyfriend lives," Dan said. "Outside of Manchester, that is. And so it might seem like I'm going there for the wrong reasons." He turned to face her. "Is that it, Mum?"   
  
She gave a small nod. "A bit, maybe."   
  
Their house was cold enough that Dan had been considering putting on an extra jumper minutes ago, but now sweat was prickling at the back of his neck. All of his months of avoiding this moment were pointless. He could try to plan out the perfect moment, analyzing his father's temperament and coming up with precise language, but nothing would make this easy.   
  
As much as Dan wanted this to be an inconsequential discussion, the truth was that he'd been wrong. He’d been deluding himself all of the times he’d insisted that this didn’t matter to him. It did. He could hardly breathe from apprehension.   
  
"Your boyfriend?" his dad asked.   
  
"Phil," Dan said. "You've got to- I mean, you know him by now, right?"   
  
"I've heard you say the name once or twice. Wouldn't say that I know him." His dad's cheeks were splotched with color as he shifted his body weight between his feet uncomfortably and cast appealing eyes at his wife. "You've known though?"   
  
"Not long," she said. "A few weeks."   
  
"Right."   
  
Dan remained silent as they nodded at one another and his mum returned to folding clothes as if the conversation had never happened.   
  
It was hard enough to suffer someone's embarrassment when it wasn't directed at him. Dan picked his laptop up and started his quiet retreat back to his bedroom when he felt a hand drop onto his shoulder to stop him from leaving.   
  
"Dan, wait." His dad pulled him into a tight hug. "That's really great about uni. We’re proud of you."   
  
"Thanks," Dan said. "Sorry if I sort of spoiled the- _whoa_." The breath was knocked out of him as his mum's arms enveloped him from behind. "Hello."   
  
"We love you," his mum said. "You know that, right?"   
  
Dan clutched his laptop against his chest and laughed. "Yeah." He smiled and allowed himself to be crushed between them. "Of course, I know."   


* * *

  
The weeks of holiday were bittersweet for Dan.   
  
India was gorgeous and warm. It was ripe with flora and fauna in brilliant contrast to the dreary winter they'd left behind, but he felt the increased distance from Phil like a gaping chasm.   
  
It was felt most acutely in the form of shoddy hotel wifi.   
  
"You keep freezing," Phil complained.   
  
Dan waved a hand in front of his camera as if that might startle Skype into working again. There was no other option. He'd already thrown a complete diva fit to hotel management when the wifi stopped working earlier. That was enough humiliation for one week.   
  
"We'll just have to deal with it for a few more days."   
  
"It doesn't help when you whisper."   
  
"Don't want my parents to hear me."   
  
The paper thin walls in his room didn't leave much privacy. He doubted anyone could actually make out his words, but it wouldn't go over well if they overheard him talking into the early hours of the morning. His parents were already pestering him about sleeping through breakfast every day. As if it was normal to wake up at dawn and eat as a family.   
  
"How're things going with them?" Phil asked.   
  
Dan considered his answer before settling on an abbreviated version of the truth. "Tense."   
  
"Sorry," Phil said. "That's my fault, right?"   
  
"No." Dan rolled his eyes. "They're not, like, upset with me. It's just- they keep asking me if I'm sure about everything and I'm- I don't know, certainty isn't a strong point of mine. I never end up saying the right things when they ask."   
  
"What are you trying to convince them?"   
  
"That I know what I'm doing, I guess."   
  
Phil tapped a finger against his chin. "Do you?"   
  
"No. I’ve not got the faintest clue really." Dan laughed. "I'm not sure about going to school at all." He sighed as the image on his laptop froze again. It was possible Phil wasn't even hearing any of this. "I'm sure about Manchester though. I like the city and I like- well, it's going to be nice being closer to you. I miss you so much right now it feels like- _fuck_ , it actually hurts a little sometimes. I want to swan dive into your bed and curl up there for a few weeks, you know?"   
  
Dan waited until the screen moved again. "How much of that did you catch?"   
  
"All of it." Phil smiled. "I miss you too."   
  
"Sorry for being a total sap."   
  
"I don’t mind it."   
  
There was no mention that tomorrow was Valentine's Day from either of them. It seemed a bit early to celebrate a holiday that demanded you declare your feelings in the most saccharine way you could imagine. Even though they weren't talking about it, the day seemed to have seeped into Dan's mind against his will. A change of subject was in order before he became truly sickening.   
  
"So, what should I tell my parents when they stop tiptoeing around mentioning of you?" Dan asked.   
  
Phil brightened. "Is that happening?"   
  
"They’ve asked to meet you. I'm sure it's coming."   
  
"I want to meet them. I bet they like me more in person than as a concept."   
  
"Concept? Oh, god." Dan cringed. "Should we- I mean, what's the plan? Not that we have to, I don't know, work it all out now."   
  
"What do you mean?" Phil asked. "What plan?"   
  
"Like, for example, if they ask when we started dating." Dan picked at the skin around his fingers and dropped his voice even lower. "Should I say October or December? Then what if they ask how it all started or where we went for our first date?"   
  
"I don't know." Phil blew out a breath of air and gave him a rueful smile. "Can't we just tell them the truth? I've told mine everything already."   
  
"You did?"   
  
Phil nodded. "It wasn’t so bad. I think they’ve gotten used to me getting myself involved in weird situations like that."   
  
"It doesn't work like that with my parents," Dan said. "We stick to what's necessary. They've been pretty good about, you know, us." He motioned between the camera and himself. "Apart from a lot of questions and shit, like, it's been- well, I don't want to fuck that up."   
  
"Letting people in isn't about what's _necessary_ though."   
  
It was only the earnest expression in Phil's eyes that forced Dan to swallow back his sarcastic response.   
  
"I'm just not there yet."   
  
"Okay." Phil nodded. "I figured it was a lot to ask, you know, considering you just came out to them and all. I just-"   
  
"Have an unusually developed sense of morality?" Dan interjected. "An honesty fetish of some kind?"   
  
Phil laughed. "Would it be easier if we came up with a story?"   
  
"Yeah." Dan rolled onto his stomach and settled his chin on top of his folded arms. "Not for the world. But, like, for Chloe and my parents and everyone else."   
  
"Okay." Phil stared off to the side like he was thinking. "We can do that."   
  
"We better make it a damn good one."   
  
"Of course," Phil said. "Don't insult my creative abilities."   
  
"Just doesn't seem like you're one for lying."   
  
Phil smiled. "I've thought about it enough though. What would've happened if we’d started dating for real instead of you asking me to pretend."   
  
It still caused a twinge of guilt that Dan had never corrected Phil's misunderstanding about that night. He stared at the Skype window where Phil's face seemed caught in the middle of a stop motion animation from the amount of lag. This wasn’t the right moment.   
  
There was an insistent thudding on the wall that connected Dan's room to the one his parents were sharing.   
  
Dan grimaced at the camera. Further confirmation that honesty would have to wait.   
  
"Was that your parents?" Phil asked.   
  
"Yeah. Sorry," Dan whispered the apology although it was rather pointless now. "Got to go."   
  
It was probably a truth better told in person anyway.   


* * *

  
There was a five hour time difference between India and England, which wouldn't be all that much if Dan wasn't forced to adhere to his family's stringent sleep schedule. Between his parents insistence on being awake at the same time while on holiday and Dan's fear of accidentally procuring thousands of pounds worth of international roaming charges, he’d actually been resorting to email in order to stay in communication with Phil.   
  
Dan hadn't bothered to get out of bed before pulling his laptop off the floor to check his email for new messages. There was one from Phil that had been sent a few hours after they'd signed off Skype.   
  
The subject line was blank. That wasn’t unusual. Phil didn't typically bother with them.   
  
What was unusual was the brevity. Dan lifted an eyebrow in confusion. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but it hadn't been a single line of text - _"a damn good story"_ \- and a link to a video.   


* * *

  
There were tears gathered in the corners of Dan's eyes by the time he noticed his mother's presence behind him. He immediately hit pause and turned to face her, blinking rapidly and hoping it wasn't noticeable that he'd been crying.   
  
"Sorry," she said guiltily. "I didn't mean to- I'll go if you'd like to keep watching."   
  
"No, it's fine." Dan glanced at where Phil's face was frozen on his laptop, wide eyes practically boring into his soul. "I've watched it four times already." He closed the window.   
  
Dan's mum sat on the corner of his bed. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop. It's just I never- well, I guess I've been curious what he's like."   
  
"It's okay. It was just-" Dan paused. "I don't know."   
  
The video was, as Phil had aptly summarized, a damn good story. Their story, or at least one possibility, if they'd been honest with each other from the start. It'd been a mixture of truth and fiction, real places and anecdotes blending seamlessly with inside jokes and wishful thinking.   
  
Dan couldn't stop his tears from returning as he looked into his mum's inquisitive eyes. There was too much regret to hold them back. He leaned against the wall and let his legs dangle over the side of the bed.   
  
It overwhelmed him how much he wanted it all to be true.   
  
"Are those happy tears?" his mum asked.   
  
He shook his head. "I don't know."   
  
"I wish you would tell me what's wrong."   
  
"I’m a bit- I don’t know, I just really miss him today." He gave a weak laugh. "Sorry if that’s, like, still a bit weird for you to hear."   
  
"No, of course not. That’s not- Dan, please, look at me."   
  
Dan lifted his head and forced himself to meet her eyes. They were as red-rimmed as he imagined his own were.   
  
"Nothing's ever going to change how much we love you."   
  
Dan nodded. "I know."   
  
"Your father and I don’t have anything against Phil." His mum twisted her hands around the hem of her shirt. "It scares me to think about anything that might make your life harder. You don't know how much I worry about you and your brother."   
  
"I know," he repeated. "I was terrified of coming out to you."   
  
" _Why?_ " His mum's voice broke and she held a hand to her mouth. "Sorry, darling. I don't mean to get weepy."   
  
Dan's words were equally choked as he collected his mum into his arms. They were both silent criers who were prone to tears whenever emotions ran high. He clung to her shoulders while she sniffed.   
  
"I'd never want you to feel you need to hide from me," she said. "Why were you scared to tell me about Phil?"   
  
"I don't know exactly," Dan spoke into her shoulder. "I know you both love me. It's not that I think anything would change that. Is it really horrible to say that I want more?"   
  
She sat back and dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. "What do you want?"   
  
"Just for things to feel normal," Dan said. "Oh god, Mum, it's not that- I know how lucky I am, right? You'd never- but it's like I've got this constant need to defend myself whenever the topic comes up, like, whenever someone asks me if I'm _sure_. I'm supposed to have everything perfectly worked out and if I don't then- I don't know, then I'm some stupid kid who doesn't know what he's talking about, right?"   
  
Dan took a deep breath before continuing. "No one asked me if I was sure when I started dating Erica. It makes it feel like- well, do you think I'm doing something wrong?"   
  
His mum's eyes were wide as she shook her head.   
  
"I want you to like Phil as much as you liked Erica," Dan said. "I don't want to feel guilty every time I mention his name around you."   
  
"We don't want you to feel that way. That's why we've been asking to meet him, so we-"   
  
"Because you're suspicious of him."   
  
"No," his mum insisted. "We just want to get to know him. I want to like him." She looked down at her hands in embarrassment. "That video- well, I know I wasn't meant to see it."   
  
"How much of that did you watch?" Dan asked.   
  
"About a minute." She placed her hands on his cheeks and used her thumbs to smudge away his tears. "It's obvious how much you two care for each other. It seems like he really loves you."   
  
"Yeah."   
  
"And you love him?"   
  
Dan let his head fall onto her shoulder. "Yes," he said. "I'm so in love with him."   
  
His mum smiled. "I’m glad you’re happy. And it’s a sweet gift," she said. "Making a video like that."   
  
The awed tone in her voice made Dan smile and lift his head. "I told you he makes videos. That’s- well, he makes them all the time."   
  
"I hadn't realized."   
  
"Did you know that I make them too?" He pulled the laptop closer and opened a new tab. "Sometimes we film them together when I visit."   
  
"You never mentioned."   
  
"Do you want to see one?"   
  
His mum lifted an eyebrow. "You'd show me?"   
  
Dan shrugged. The webpage remained blank as it attempted to connect. The slow rotating circle mocked his attempted vulnerability.   
  
"This might take a while to load," he said. "I'm guessing we're, like, heading out for breakfast?"   
  
His mum crossed her legs and peered down at the screen. "It can wait."   
  
The browser flickered after a moment and the blank page was replaced with the bright red of the YouTube logo. Dan gave a nervous laugh and navigated to one of his more innocent videos.   


* * *

  
The best part of returning from holiday was that first night spent back in your own bed.   
  
It was a testament to Phil's persuasive prowess that Dan gave up this luxury in exchange for a three hour train journey on his first night back home. He fell asleep on Phil's chest, jet lagged and travel weary, snug in the nook of his arms.   
  
There had to be some sort of magical properties embedded in Phil's mattress that made it the most comfortable place in the world. It was an addicting combination of warm and cozy. They crawled back under the covers mere hours after waking and put on a DVD that neither seemed interested in watching.   
  
"You're extremely distracting today," Phil murmured into his hair.   
  
Dan smiled and continued placing sleepy kisses across Phil's chest. He hummed appreciatively when he felt Phil's fingers in his hair and didn’t dare let himself shut his eyes. He’s already dozed off several times since breakfast.   
  
"I missed being able to talk to you," Dan said. "You know, without my parents being within earshot or wifi disconnecting mid-sentence."   
  
"And yet there hasn't been much of that."   
  
"What?"   
  
"Talking."   
  
"About that," Dan said. "It seems I missed touching you an equal amount."   
  
Phil traced a finger across Dan's chin. "Or there's something you want to say, but you're nervous to get on with it."   
  
"Maybe it's jet lag," Dan said. "No, it's not that. Stop guessing things before I’m ready to say them. Have some patience."   
  
Phil let go of Dan and moved to stretch out on his back with both hands behind his head. "I'm extremely patient."   
  
There were always perfectly reasonable explanations for not mentioning sensitive topics. It felt clumsy to reveal information about yourself without specific cause. It was an embarrassing admission that you considered your feelings important enough to discuss.   
  
Dan climbed onto Phil's lap and put both hands on his chest. It was easier to seek attention in more subtle ways.   
  
"Comfortable?" Phil let his eyes wander down Dan's body as he took in the suggestive position.   
  
Maybe _subtle_ wasn't exactly the right word.   
  
"We're going to talk," Dan said.   
  
"Are we?" The question held a slight edge of disappointment.   
  
"Yes. Because I want to be honest with you."   
  
"Good." Phil gave Dan's hips a gentle squeeze. "What's on your mind?"   
  
"I never wanted you to pretend to be my boyfriend." Dan swallowed and tried to stop himself from blurting it all out in a frantic jumble. He leaned down to place a kiss on Phil's lips. It was calming. "I was trying to ask you out that night. You misunderstood. I was too nervous to explain."   
  
Dan sat back on his heels with his knees still straddling Phil’s thighs and waited for his reaction.   
  
"Okay," Phil said. "I'd sort of already- well, is this confession time now?"   
  
"Um," Dan said. There was a confusing lack of anger. "Something like that."   
  
"I'd guessed that already," Phil admitted. "Not that night. I didn't know- it was later, when you tried to kiss me. I started to piece things together."   
  
Dan stared down at him. A million thoughts and questions raced through his mind as he tried to sort out what he was feeling. There was relief that Phil didn't seem upset at him for lying, but that was mixed with hurt that he'd never said anything and a sneaking bit of humiliation that Phil always seemed to see through him.   
  
It was confusion that won out in the end.   
  
"Why didn't you tell me?" Dan asked.   
  
"I was freaked out by it, I guess."   
  
"Why?" he asked again.   
  
"It was stupid." Phil shook his head. "It was an important lesson, you know, that not everyone who says they love you actually means it. I didn't know what you wanted and I- well, I didn't want either of us to get hurt."   
  
"So you just-"   
  
"I tried to avoid the topic," Phil said. "Tried to stop you from saying anything."   
  
Dan nodded. All of the times Phil had talked over him and didn't seem to hear what he was saying. He'd thought for so long that he'd been doing a bad job of explaining how he felt. It made more sense now.   
  
"Are you mad?" Phil asked.   
  
"Should I be?"   
  
"I don't know. Maybe."   
  
"I'm not." Dan shook his head. Of all his confused emotions, anger didn’t seem to be involved. "I get why you- so you don’t have to feel bad." His hands were stroking underneath Phil's shirt, pressing against his skin. His intentions had been soothing, but Phil’s breath was catching with every motion. And Phil claimed that _he_ was the distracting one. "I just want- well, I was going to talk more, but I also want-"   
  
"To make use of the empty house while we've got it?" Phil pushed his shirt up with a sly smile, giving Dan more access. "Or were you going to fall asleep again?"   
  
"That depends on how entertaining you are."   
  
"I make an excellent host." Phil’s tongue wet his lips with slow deliberation. "What do you-"   
  
"Tell me another secret," Dan said.   
  
"Oh, god." Phil gave him a blank stare like he was stuck for words. "I don't know."   
  
"Want me to go first?" Dan pulled his shirt over his head and threw it on the floor. "I stole some of your lube the first time I stayed here."   
  
Phil's jaw dropped open.   
  
"To be fair, you left it out." Dan wiggled on Phil’s lap as if trying to get comfortable there. "I'm sure you can guess what I did with it." He slid his legs apart so he sank down lower, properly sitting on Phil's thighs now, and moved his fingers down to his zipper. "Want me to tell you?"   
  
"Yeah. Tell me," Phil said.   
  
Dan locked eyes with him. His heart was racing. "I fingered myself in your shower." He pulled Phil's zip open and slid his hand down the front of his pants. "I was thinking about you and- like, all the things you said when you told me how to do it. I was thinking about you when I came."   
  
"Jesus." Phil's eyes fluttered shut. "I thought about you so many times. It made me feel guilty, like, really ashamed of myself." He rolled his hips up and groaned like Dan's touch was the greatest relief he'd ever known. "You'd walk down the stairs with your curly hair and sleepy smiles and, like, _dimples_."   
  
"My dimples?" Dan laughed.   
  
"Yeah." Phil opened his eyes. "The picture of adorableness. And I'd have just spent the past ten minutes completely blanking out reality as I fantasized about you and- god, it made me feel filthy."   
  
Dan's hand gave an unconscious squeeze. There was probably something wrong with how much that admission turned him on.   
  
"What did you fantasize?"   
  
Phil’s cock twitched against Dan’s palm. It must have been a good memory.   
  
He released a shaky breath. "Lots of things I knew you weren't ready to do."   
  
"Is that why you felt guilty?" Dan considered his next words as Phil nodded. "You know anxiety isn't about not wanting things, right? It's being scared of the things you want." He leaned down to tease Phil's jaw and neck with his lips. "Whatever it was you- I mean, I like that you thought about me. Whatever it is you want, I'd hope you wanted it with me."   
  
"You know that I do."   
  
"Because you love me?"   
  
Phil's hands flew up and caught Dan's face to hold him still, fingers splayed across his cheekbones. "I tried really hard not to fall in love with you."   
  
Dan stopped to let the words sink in. "But you did."   
  
"Yes," Phil breathed. "God, yes, I did. I love you. Do you know how much I fucking love you?"   
  
"I do, yeah, but keep telling me."   
  
Phil laughed and obliged. He whispered it as they rolled over, telling Dan all of the ways that he loved him and repeating the moments where it’d become more and more clear over the past few months. The words became softer and dropped off as they tugged at their remaining clothes until they were naked and hard, pressed against one another, but doing nothing more than kissing and letting hands roam across skin.   
  
It was warm and sweet underneath Phil's covers. Dan had one arm wrapped around Phil's waist while his other hand followed the line of his flank from rib to hip.   
  
Phil pulled away to gasp for air with a desperate noise.   
  
"Get on top of me," Dan said. He held his breath as warm palms pressed him down onto the bed and the solid weight of Phil's body settled on top of him.   
  
There was a moment where it looked like Phil was going to stop again, but instead he mouthed a trail of wet kisses across Dan’s skin. If he was trying to give Dan time to catch his breath and figure out what he wanted, it was a counterproductive decision. There were scant words in Dan's mind. They were all chased out by the feeling of wet tongue on skin.   
  
"Come here." Dan spread his legs and pulled Phil against him until he felt his cock against his thigh. "I want you closer." He wanted _more_. The fear of being rejected almost made him not want to ask for it.   
  
He guided Phil's hand to his lips and sucked two fingers into his mouth before letting them slide back out again.   
  
Almost.   
  
"I want you," Dan spoke with Phil's fingers still wet against his bottom lip, "inside me."   
  
"God. Please just-" Phil closed his eyes and sat up. "Give me a second."   
  
Dan felt a wave of mortification that this was going to happen to him again . After everything, Phil still didn't trust him. He waited for Phil to tell him that they needed to stop or to insist that he wasn’t ready for this, but the words didn't come.   
  
Dan watched Phil carefully. His fingernails were digging into his palms and his breath had gone ragged. His cock was still hard against his stomach and his hand was clutching the base like he was trying to stave off orgasm.   
  
It took a moment before the realization struck. Phil wasn't saying no. He wasn't pulling away or stopping. He was trying to hold it together. He was close to losing it just from Dan’s hand and hearing what he wanted. From the thought of getting to fuck him.   
  
If Dan had any lingering doubts, they vanished instantly. He felt a surge of warmth spreading through his body.   
  
"You trust me," he said. "You know I’d tell you to stop if I didn’t want something, right?"   
  
Phil looked down at him in surprise. "Yeah, of course."   
  
"Then trust me when I'm saying yes." Dan guided Phil's hands between his legs. "I want you."   
  
"Fuck." Phil nodded. "Okay. Just, like, let me know if it hurts. I won't stop unless you tell me, but let me know."   
  
"I will," Dan said hurriedly. "I promise."   
  
He was ready to agree to anything if it meant Phil wouldn't stop touching him. He closed his eyes when he heard the sound of Phil rustling in a drawer and took a few steady breaths. This was actually going to happen. He let the words form in his mind. Phil was going to fuck him. It felt surreal. Dan hadn't actually expected Phil to agree.   
  
"Roll over."   
  
The sound of Phil's voice brought Dan crashing back to reality. He turned onto his stomach and bunched the sheets in his fists, scrunching his eyes closed as he waited.   
  
"Fuck," Dan hissed when the first of Phil's fingers slid inside. " _Fuck._ " He flinched instinctively even though the sensation was hardly foreign by now.   
  
"Is that-"   
  
"No, it's good," Dan reassured. He parted his legs more so that his thighs were spread on the bed and his cock rubbed against the sheets. "Feels different when it's you, that's all."   
  
There was an intense throbbing ache that Dan had never felt before and he wasn't sure if it was physical or caused by the thrill of knowing that Phil was the one doing this. His fingers were gentle as they slowly worked him open, an unhurried drag of knuckles against nerve endings that didn't ever quite reach the spot that would make Dan scream.   
  
It wasn't clear if Phil was avoiding it on purpose or not, but everything felt so sweet and easy that Dan didn’t think to miss it.   
  
A whimper escaped as Phil leaned forward to press a kiss against the back of his neck and whisper into his ear. "I'm going to add more lube, okay? Then I'll put another finger in."   
  
"Oh, god." Dan burrowed his face in the pillow. "Please, yes." He couldn't help rolling his hips back against Phil's hand in anticipation.   
  
There was a slight burning as Dan felt himself stretched beyond anything he'd done himself. He swallowed and choked out a small, trembled warning. "That hurts a little."   
  
"Does it?" Phil asked. He didn't stop, as promised, but held onto Dan's hip with his free hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Tell me if it gets too much." Three fingers slid back inside but this time the pads of his fingertips pressed against Dan's prostate in a long, firm sweep.   
  
"Oh, fuck, _fuck_." Dan felt a shiver work its way down his spine as the pleasure coursed through his body, extinguishing the prickling discomfort from before. "Don't stop, please."   
  
It was a slow, deliberate process. Phil leaned close to whisper what he was doing with each touch and ask if it was okay, but Dan found he didn't mind it. He wasn't sure why he ever had. It didn't make him freeze up with anxiety now that he knew what his answer was.   
  
By the time Phil was sliding his fingers out and pulling Dan onto his knees, whispering a quiet _"do you still want this?"_ directly into his ear, all Dan could do was let a stream of _"yes, yes, yes"_ fall from his lips. He was sweaty and trembling and ready to beg if necessary.   
  
Phil sat on his knees and guided Dan onto his lap. His chest was pressed to Dan's back and his arms wrapped around Dan's stomach to hold him securely in place.   
  
"This good?"   
  
"Is this, like, cuddle-fucking?" Dan asked.   
  
Phil laughed. "Yeah. I’m going to let you set the pace. Move when you’re ready."   
  
"Okay, yeah."   
  
The sheets were twisted around Dan's feet, but he was too worked up to fix them. It felt strange and empty now that Phil's fingers were gone, the pulsating bursts of pleasure replaced with slow-spreading ache. He reached between his thighs with a shaky hand and slowly guided Phil’s cock inside.   
  
"Fuck," Dan whimpered. There was a stretch again, but the pleasure more than made up for it.   
  
Phil kissed his shoulder and held Dan tighter against his chest. "Need a minute?"   
  
"I don’t know. No." Dan shook his head and sank down. There was a low moan breathed out against the back of his neck. "Touch me." His cock throbbed as Phil made the slow journey down his stomach.   
  
He let his head fall back onto Phil's shoulder and cried out when his hand, still slick with lube, finally wrapped around him. The tempo changed then, ricocheting from sweet and slow to frantic in a fraction of a second as Dan felt the desperate urge to keep moving.   
  
He pulled up once before slamming his hips back down again, grinding onto Phil's cock as he thrust into his hand. The dual pleasure was intense and consuming. There were dark patches on the outside of his vision as he started to move harder and faster, edging closer every time.   
  
Phil's hands moved from his cock to the top of his thighs to slow down the pace, but Dan was having none of it.   
  
"Don’t," Dan gasped, "don't stop."   
  
Phil's fingernails dug into his thighs. "Yeah?"   
  
"You feel so _fucking_ good." Dan took his leaking cock in hand, trying to keep his strokes in rhythm the way Phil had done. "God."   
  
Phil's head dropped into the crook of Dan's neck. "I'm not going to last. I'm gonna-"   
  
"You can come." Dan rolled his hips back down. "Just don't stop, please."   
  
Phil whimpered and it sounded like he might be saying something, but Dan was too far gone to be sure, surrendering himself to the pleasure as he tipped over the edge and started to come. He fell forward onto his forearms and let his head drop to the bed, too weak and overwhelmed to work himself through it. He groaned when he felt Phil's hand on his cock again, pulling him off as he continued thrusting inside and shuddered through his own orgasm.   
  
There were streaks of come across Phil's sheets when Dan managed to open his eyes again, light-headed and dazed.   
  
"Sorry about that," he said with a weak laugh.   
  
"Don't care." Phil rolled onto his side and pulled Dan away from the wet patch. "I can change them."   
  
He curled up beside Phil and wrapped an arm around his waist. "You're incredible."   
  
"You were too."   
  
"I don't mean just- well, yeah, _that_ was incredible." Dan laughed. "But I meant you. Just- you're really good, you know? I hope you know how mind-blowingly wonderful you are."   
  
Phil nuzzled against his skin. "So are you."   
  
Dan bit the inside of his cheek to keep from immediately denying it. He was trying to be better about compliments. It was a struggle, especially when combined with his attempts at honesty.   
  
"I’m okay," he said with a bit of self-deprecating nonchalance. "I might never be the person you want."   
  
"You're wrong." Phil frowned. "You already are who I want."   
  
"No, I mean, like, the person who can be honest all the time," Dan said. "I might still screw up. It’s not easy for me."   
  
"That's okay. Just, like, _try_ to be," Phil said. "Whatever happens, you can always tell me the truth. If you lie to me about something, you can own up to it later. And I'll try to be better about listening."   
  
Dan pressed a hand to Phil's cheek. "Okay. I want to be honest with you. I want this to be real."   
  
"It is. We're real."   
  
Dan closed his eyes and leaned closer. "Good."   
  
Maybe they wouldn't be like other couples. Their story was messy and disjointed, full of near misses and false starts, but it was theirs. It wasn't the sweetest or the most dramatic, but Dan found that he preferred it over any version they could fabricate.   
  
Dan wanted what was real.


	15. Epilogue

"For god's sake," Dan's mum shouted from across the room, which was only two steps from where Dan was standing. "Don't sit on that yet."

Dan looked down at the mattress. "Why not?"  
  
"Germs," his dad answered with a smile. "They're _everywhere_."  
  
"It's true." Phil stood with his arms folded as if trying not to touch anything. "They're all over us as well. Did you know that the human body is actually ninety percent bacteria?"  
  
Dan's mum grimaced. "Is that right?"  
  
"Yeah." Phil nodded. "Most are the good kind though."

"Right." Dan's dad gave a weak chuckle.

"I'm sure the same could be said for this bed," Dan said with a wistful glance down at the cushioned surface that would soothe his aching limbs. "Don't you think?"  
  
"Not sure about that one."  
  
Dan's parents smiled politely and exchanged a glance before retreating. Relief flooded through Dan as he saw them edging towards the door. It always sent him into a mild anxiety spiral whenever his parents and Phil were in the same room, but his new room at university _truly_ was not meant to hold four people at one time.  
  
"Just don't sit anywhere until we get back." His mum leaned to kiss his cheek. "Give us half an hour to grab a few cleaning supplies and we'll finish unpacking together."  
  
"Sure," he agreed.  
  
It was less than two seconds after the door closed that he collapsed back onto the bed with a loud groan. Phil gave him a disapproving hum and shook his head.  
  
"Be quiet." Dan pulled on Phil's arms until he joined him on the bare mattress. "This really isn't big enough for two people."  
  
"We survived sleeping at Chloe's flat." Phil laughed. "It could be worse."  
  
Dan smiled. "True."  
  
He'd never told his parents about the confusing beginning to his relationship with Phil, but he had revealed everything to Chloe by now. She'd laughed at his anxious expression and told him she'd been expecting something far more salacious when he sat her down for a conversation.  
  
"Want to stay at my place tonight?"  
  
Dan shook his head. "I figure I should tough it out at least for the first night."  
  
Now that Phil had his own flat in Manchester, he'd suffered through several concerned speeches from his parents about how they really didn't think he was ready to move in with Phil yet. That suited him fine. He wanted to have the typical university experience of meeting new people and living in a piece of shit room that looked like a prison.  
  
Having a boyfriend who lived ten minutes away and didn't mind sharing his food and sinfully hot shower water was an added perk.  
  
"You sure?" Phil asked. He hooked an ankle underneath Dan's leg.  
  
That was still a question that Dan hated answering. He wasn't sure about much these days. The law program he was starting seemed more intimidating and dull with every passing day. It was going to cut into his time filming videos. It'd been over a year since he'd started his YouTube channel and it'd grown more than he'd ever anticipated. Trying to balance school and videos with a social life and Phil was a challenge that filled him as much dread as excitement.  
  
He wasn't going to worry about it today. Not after spending the entire morning hauling boxes with his parents and buying a worryingly thick stack of law textbooks.  
  
He'd decided this wasn't the time in his life for certainty. It was the time for keeping all doors open and figuring out which ones had something good behind them.  
  
"Not really." Dan grinned as he found Phil's hand on the bed and gave it a squeeze. "But I'll let you know if I change my mind."


End file.
